Resident Evil: Abduction
by Damiar
Summary: Umbrella finally has their clutches on the renegade S.T.A.R.S. (S.D. Perry’s) David, John and Rebecca have been captured along with a young civilian man (all original) named Derek. They are being held at Umbrella’s Torel Island Lab.
1. Prologue

Prologue

            Xander looked over the list of the renegade S.T.A.R.S.  The names delighted him.  They had, in the past few months caused Umbrella more trouble than they had bargained for.  And, how great would it be if he could show Jackson their heads on silver platters?  He could just imagine the benefits…

            _Retirement might not be so far away after all, old boy!_

He looked over the list one more time.

            Rebecca Chambers

     David Trapp

     John Andrews

     Jill Valentine

     Chris Redfield

     Barry Burton

     Sean Chester

     What was infinitely better was the fact that they were all going to be in the same place at the same time.  Xander's goons could round them up in one try. 

            _Gives a whole new meaning to that old expression, two birds with one stone._

They were planning on meeting up, according the emails intercepted by his men, at a rag-tag hotel just outside of Paris.  He would give them just enough time to settle in and then…

            _Then I get my prize!_

It wasn't that Xander didn't appreciate his position at Umbrella.  He had every freelance agent and assassin at the tips of fingers…his pay was _more_ than considerable.  He was successful; he was good at what he did.  He _always_ got the job done…no matter what.  What he really wanted was a spot in the inner circle.  The pay was a lot more…not that it would make much of a difference to him…he wanted the _power_.  That's what Xander had always wanted, to be large and in charge.

            He began to type out the orders to authorize the capture of the renegade S.T.A.R.S. that had been so infamous in White Umbrella.  After it was finished he had but to print and sign the thing and his very will would be put into effect.  He had power and respect _now_.  A little more would make him invincible.  It was a question of where now.

            _Think…what's a lab that has prison containment sufficient enough to…oh…yes!_

A grim smile curled Xander's lips.  He typed in the details and smiled…the renegade S.T.A.R.S. would taste true pain once they were made guinea pigs at…

            …_Torel Island…_


	2. Chapter One

ONE

"That's sounds awfully dangerous, mate," Mathis Drieth said.

"Somebody has to pay, Math, Darren is not going to die in vain. I'll die myself before I see that happen," Derek Maynor replied.

"You're going to go right into the enemy's camp and single-handedly take on everything that Umbrella has? That's not bravery, mate, that's suicide," Mathis added.

"You're not going to change my mind," Derek said.

"I know. I'm worried about you though. I already lost one friend to that company I don't want to lose another," Mathis admitted.

"Umbrella will be suffering all of the losses I assure you," Derek sounded so confident. Mathis didn't share his confidence or enthusiasm. Mathis was a computer-programming student who happened to be working for a pharmaceutical branch of Umbrella. Darren, Derek's older brother, had been working along side of Mathis for a while. Darren was a brilliant biologist though. He was the most brilliant of any other biologist his age. Darren, even though he was only twenty years old was high up in the ranks of Umbrella scientists. He was working for an entirely different branch of Umbrella. He was working for a company called White Umbrella. Mathis didn't know anything. He helped write security codes for locking mechanisms while Darren was working on a cure for cancer, literally.

Darren and Mathis were roommates. Mathis could remember when Darren came in, scared out of his mind. He told Mathis to look out for Derek and to make sure that he was okay. Darren then stormed out of the apartment. Mathis never saw Darren alive again. Derek was supposed to meet him for their morning jog through the trail in the woods and never showed. Derek was late and figured that Darren didn't want to wait for him so he jogged on without him. Derek found Darren's body. It looked, on the surface that Darren had committed suicide. He had a gun in one hand and a suicide note in the other. There was something wrong with the whole scene though.

Mathis had investigated the scene and found four more shell casings scattered throughout the woods. He found several sets of shoeprints besides Darren's. It looked as if Darren had been chased down and shot. Mathis suspected Umbrella fraud from the get-go. Derek and his family were so devastated at first they were unable to look any deeper than the surface.

As time went on and Derek collected his senses he too caught on to the foul play that was at hand. Derek immediately went to Mathis in search for answers. Mathis had found no real answers. Aside from his computer programming abilities, Mathis was a hardcore hacker. He tried for weeks to hack Umbrella's security files from his computer but was unable to do so because of the impenetrable firewall set up around Umbrella's network.

Any hacking had to be done from an inside terminal that was directly connected to the mainframe. Every console was monitored with camera. Also, every keystroke that was pushed into any console was recorded. Umbrella had thought of almost everything.

_Almost_.

There were no cameras, guards, firewalls and little physical restraint protecting the actual mainframe computers. If Mathis could get into the mainframe room and plug in his laptop he could access Umbrella's top-secret files. The little physical restraint did keep him from doing that though. There was a red-level clearance card required to go into the mainframe room. Mathis had a yellow-level clearance card, which only allowed him to enter doors with white and yellow level locks. Red-level clearance was the highest clearance level there was in this particular Umbrella facility. The likeliness of Mathis getting his hands on one of those cards was slim to none.

Even if he did manage to connect to the mainframe he would have to tread very softly in accessing files. If he tried to access the wrong file with the wrong password even one time then his entire system would lock and an alarm would sound. It would be difficult to avoid, but it was nothing Mathis couldn't handle…if he could get the chance.

Just when things looked to be lost in despair, Mathis met Trent. Trent was a character for sure. He gave Mathis the creeps and didn't look too trustworthy. Mathis had to wonder what Trent was thinking when he plainly handed a red-level security pass to him in an envelop.

"What's in it for you?" Mathis remembered asking, bewildered.

"Let's just say I'll get mine. That's sufficient enough. Good day, Mathis," and with that Mathis never heard from him again. There were so many unanswered questions as to how Trent was able to stumble upon the fact that Mathis was planning sabotage on Umbrella. It made him wonder if he knew about Derek. It made him wonder if he knew about Darren. Mathis feared that even time would leave most of those questions unanswered. That is when _he _came.

* * *

Mathis was in his apartment looking on the Internet for other companies that Umbrella or White Umbrella was linked to. A lot of Umbrella plants were secret and hidden. Mathis knew this. He was reading an article about a city called Raccoon in a mountainous region of the United States. Strange cannibalistic murders had been taking place there. The S.T.A.R.S., (Special Tactics and Rescue Squad) were apparently sent to investigate a mansion on the outskirts of town.

While many went to investigate only five members returned. They all claimed that Umbrella was responsible for everything. As months went by the papers began to have headings such as, "The Dead Walk" and "Zombies". The papers stopped in a date in early October.

Reading another paper showed that Raccoon City was bombed and completely wiped off of the map. The death toll was said to be over the 100,000 mark. Mathis just shook his head in disbelief. If Umbrella was willing to destroy an entire city to cover up their mess, killing Darren was nothing to them.

"Hard to believe isn't it?" said a voice from nowhere. Mathis leapt to his feet and spun around to find a tall, middle-aged man standing in his doorway.

"Who are you? How did you get in?" Mathis demanded.

"You and your friend Derek are seeking to cause Umbrella some grief, I understand," he said, ignoring what Mathis had just asked him.

"I can give you this red-level clearance pass," he said pulling the object out of his pocket. "You'll have to work you magic on the computer and get the information you need."

Mathis took the card as the man handed it to him.

"You shouldn't worry about the lab in your town just yet. If you can hack into that mainframe you can be connected to every Umbrella lab on the planet," the man said.

"The things that I plan on doing can't be done in one day. I need to be able to remotely access it from anywhere," Mathis explained. He didn't trust the guy but yet he felt he could be open with him. He already knew exactly was going on so there was no real point in keeping secrets.

"Yes that is why I'm giving you this," he said handing something in a box. "Connect it to the mainframe computer and then follow the accessing instructions. As long as you have a modem you can undetectably access Umbrella's mainframe."

"Why are you helping me? Who are you?" Mathis found himself demanding again.

"My name is Trent, that is all that you need to know," he said.

"I don't think so! What do you got against Umbrella? You can't just stroll in here and give me this stuff, expect me to use it without know some things!" Mathis said.

The man smiled a smile that sent a shiver down Mathis's spine.

"What's in it for you?" Mathis asked.

"Let's just say I'll get mine. That's sufficient enough. Good day, Mathis," the man who called himself Trent said. With that, Trent turned and walked away. Mathis didn't have it inside to stop him from leaving. He was still so shaken up from being scared like that. Mathis knew that he had to get a gun. That guy had made his way into the house without so much as a board creaking.

_ Creepy._

Mathis looked at the box and then at his watch. It was time to go to work.

* * *

Getting to the mainframe computers was so unbelievably easy. Mathis was nearly disappointed that there was not more opposition for him. He knew how security worked. There were surveillance cameras with gun turrets attached to them. The guns had to be manually activated from the security room on the second floor. There were only two guys watching security during daytime hours and one during nighttime. The activity wasn't even taped. The part of the lab that Mathis worked in was minimum security. Umbrella was much more careful with its biological and viral departments. Security technology didn't seem like something that needed to be heavily guarded. Mathis was glad for that much.

He walked down the hall that led to the mainframes like he owned the place. He even said hello to the guard that he passed. He was feeling rather cocky and had to remind himself to be careful. There it was before him—the mainframe door. He walked and swiped his card. A strange, paranoid fear brewed up inside of him. He imagined the computer voice saying, "access denied" and for the alarm to sound. He envisioned armed guards coming around the corner armed with automatic weapons. He could smell the cordite as the array of bullets tore through his body. He shuddered at the unhappy image and then heard the voice of reason and relief.

"Access granted," said the computer woman's voice in her icy, British accent. The door opened and Mathis was staring the mainframe computers in the face. He looked around the room, knowing that there were no cameras there. He just had to make sure.

_ I've come too far to screw this up now_.

He sat down at the operating console. He looked over the instructions that Trent had left him. He opened the box to reveal a remote accessing computer unit (RACU). Mathis smiled. It was so simple. He just had to plug in the RACU and program it to respond only to the IP address of his laptop. From anywhere on the globe he could access the mainframe computer. He had a feeling that he'd have to work through a few more security precautions before he was able to get to the raw data. That wasn't a problem for him. One of his specialties as a hacker was writing code-cracking programs. He tested the system out on the United States IRS security system. He wished he could have seen the smile on his face when he suddenly had full access to the system within four minutes. It was sublime.

He called the program Chaos. It was really quite innovative. Whenever it came across a firewall or password protected file it would simply download the security software itself from the system he was trying to access. Then Chaos would quick as lightning search for the password or loophole through the firewall. Once it had unlocked it from the 'dummy' security system he could use it on the real thing. As long as he had a good connection to download the information, Chaos was also lightning fast. He was thinking about selling the program to the Australian Government and seeing if he could make himself a prize. Then he thought of a better idea, use the system on the Australian Government's system and see if it was even worthy of them.

_ I'll have to get around to that when this whole thing blows over._

He hooked up the RACU into the very first mainframe console. Installation was a real bitch but he knew the payoff would be great. Fortunately for him, the mainframe had no walls or alarms for physical access. He was really rough with it too. He concealed the RACU behind a panel so that it couldn't be seen. He knew that few people ever came into the mainframe room anyway. To test out to make sure he'd done it right, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed up. He tried to access the Umbrella system and to his satisfaction the start up page loaded and then took him straight to the file manager.

_ Easy as pie._

He packed his stuff and headed back to his cubical to get to work. He hadn't clocked in yet and he was going to be late if he didn't hurry. He had a new program to work for one of Umbrella's military bases. He pretended that he didn't know what it was for. Umbrella must not have realized the pickle that Mathis could put them in if he wanted to. He wrote nearly every security system for every Umbrella lab in Australia. He knew everything in the Sydney lab was his. He wasn't able to get clearance because he worked with a programming team that changed things to meet their expectations. They took precautionary measures to make sure that the programmers couldn't 'key master' their way around the lab. They rewrote things so that Mathis didn't recognize the system.

_Oh well…I'm just too smart for you. You bastards have got a hurricane coming your way. God be with you when it hits._

* * *

Derek had his stereo going full blast. His hands were taped and gloved, as where his feet. He pounded the bag with kicks and punches that made his muscles burn. He let out a grunt each time he clobbered the bag. Sweat dripped off of him liberally as he'd been at it for a while. With every punch he envisioned the Umbrella emblem smashing to pieces under his punch. He was in a wild frenzy now punching away at faceless men in black suits. He kicked and broke a nose. Elbowed and flipped another on his back before breaking his spine with another kick. He palmed another man in the nose, sending the bone to his brain and killing him.

Derek had taken martial arts for most of his natural life. It was one hobby that he and his brother had in common. They studied several different styles and even learned to use medieval and ancient Japanese weapons. Derek was really mean with a Wakizashi sword. After the song was over and the next one started Derek went back to sharpening his blade. He rubbed the blade of the stone again and again, created a scrape noise that could be heard only faintly under the noise of the music.

The weapon was magnificent. It was sharp when he had it custom made; he had it sharpened with a laser. There were ways to make blades even sharper than that. Derek knew how to do it too. The scabbard was black with airbrushed, metallic red splashes about it. It was fit with stainless steel fittings. The blade itself was an expensive titanium alloy that was supposed to be unbreakable. With the way that Derek was sharpening the sword, he would not be happy until it was only an atom thick at the blade. He wanted to be able to slice through flesh and bone as if it were butter; he needed the blade unbelievably sharp.

He'd been switching back and forth from sharpening the blade to beating the bag on every other song. He'd moved in with Mathis after his brother was killed. He could barely stand to be around his parents while they were grieving. It made it all the harder on him. He knew he was going to make Umbrella pay and pay dearly.

Derek was a good-looking boy at seventeen. He stood at six foot, one inch tall. His shoulders and chest were broad and strong. He was built like a champion boxer but was as limber as a gymnast. His hair was a sandy brown color with blonde highlights. He had full, thick eyebrows above his big, brown eyes. His forehead was high, his chin, round and defined. His nose was long and rounded at the end. His cheeks were full his neck long, rounded and strong. Derek's body was sculpted from all of his physical activity. He played every sport in school, including rugby. His hobbies were martial arts, mountain biking, rock climbing and anything that required the body to do above and beyond.

His physical strength was second only to his wit and intellect. Derek had made straight A's in school. He had graduated early and was on his way to college. He planned on getting a degree in computer programming, like his friend Mathis. Derek was really into computers but he knew it made money.

_ What you want isn't always what you get._

Derek desperately wanted to write. He wanted to write fiction novels, biographies, research essays, movies, and just about anything else that needed to be written. He'd been published before. It wasn't a novel; it was an article in a local magazine—no big deal and definitely no big money. It was very rewarding to know that thousands of people were reading what he had written. It felt that dream slipping away from him. Revenge was the only thing on Derek's mind now. When Mathis had shown him the evidence that Umbrella was behind Darren's death, Derek swore he would make them pay.

Derek's family was religious. Derek himself believed in God. He questioned him everyday, wondering why he would take Darren away at such a good time in his life. He was angry with Him sometimes. He had been taught not to question God.

"Be still and know that I am God," Derek said out loud, quoting the Proverbs his mother had taught him even as a little boy.

" ' 'Vengeance is mine,' says the Lord,'" Derek quoted again.

_Sorry, God. I can't wait on Your justice this time. They have to pay. Even if I must move against Your will—I am going to make them pay. I pray that You would use me as a sharpened sword to smite them in Your wrath._

Derek prayed silently in his mind. He always felt it relaxing to his nerves when he would pray. He'd never been one to go against the teachings of his parents or of God, but he'd been driven over the edge. He'd been training himself for months to carry out his mission and he was not about to turn back now.

He had nothing left to lose. He was old enough and smart enough to take care of himself, he didn't need his parents to take him in. He still had Mathis and Joanna but his best friend in the whole world had been taken from him. Derek used to call Darren 'Bubby'. When Derek was little he couldn't say brother right so he called Darren 'Bubby'. It had always stuck with Darren wherever he went and eventually everyone knew him as Bubby Maynor. Darren was Derek's world—nothing meant more to him. Now that Darren was gone, Derek was a man without fear and without anything to lose.

_ Umbrella's got everything to lose—and I'm going to take it._

Derek decided to get to bed. He had a plane to catch early in the morning. He was going to the France mainland so that he could infiltrate the White Umbrella headquarters.

_ Big day—really big day_.

* * *

Rebecca Chambers welcomed Claire Redfield's fingers running through her hair. Claire was cutting it for her. Rebecca liked her hair short and it had most definitely gotten too long for her taste. Claire seemed to know what she was doing well enough. They were on a plane and Rebecca hated it. What she hated even more than that was the fact that she was the only one on the plane who was scared. What was worst of all was that she had to share the plane with—

"You look a little tense over their, kid," John Andrews said. Rebecca couldn't help but roll her eyes at his ridiculous smile. John was a great guy, but he certainly knew how to rub Rebecca the wrong way.

"Don't start, John. I'm fine. I'm over the fear of flying," Rebecca lied.

"Then why are you so tense?"

"It's this weather. Flying in the sunshine is a cakewalk compared to this. Hey, Sean! Why do we have to fly in this anyway?" she called up to the pilot's seat. Sean Chester was a handsome man of thirty-one years old. He had deep blonde hair and a full beard to match. His eyes were blue, like the ocean. Rebecca was a little taken with him when he'd first shaken her hand. He'd looked her right in the face, shook her hand firmly and smiled with perfect teeth. She felt like she was shaking the hand of some male model.

Rebecca always felt a little intimidated around the other S.T.A.R.S. It didn't help that she was the only girl around, since Jill was with Barry and Chris. It also didn't help that she was nineteen while some of them were fifteen to twenty years older than she. It had helped for a little while when Claire had come along. Rebecca was only a few months older than Claire. They didn't have much in common but that didn't stop them from hitting it off. Claire was a law student, Rebecca a biochemist. She used to be so thankful for Claire's presence but now it was intimidating.

Claire was about two inches taller than Rebecca, her hair was thicker, her lips fuller. She had a better complexion and a tan.

_ Her boobs are bigger._

Claire was built better than Rebecca. Claire ran two miles a day religiously. She looked it too. Her legs were powerful. They were scarred now from her incident in Raccoon City but it just gave her a rugged, sexy look. Claire's biceps were full and her stomach too. Rebecca was in good shape but she looked downright puny next to Claire.

Claire, without any training whatsoever, was even a better shot with a handgun than Rebecca. It was ridiculously. In a lineup, Rebecca would be dog last in comparison to Claire. Rebecca usually didn't let things like that get to her self-esteem. She wasn't resentful—maybe a little jealous but she couldn't help but to admire Claire's beauty.

She still liked Claire a lot. Claire liked her too. Since Leon had left Claire had attached herself to Rebecca's hip. Rebecca was thankful to have another woman around. It was tiring being around the men all the time.

Sean glanced over his pilot's seat and looked at Rebecca again with his deep, blue eyes. He smiled at her jovially and then stole a glance at David Trapp intently looking at the instruments before him. He was sitting in the co-pilot's seat.

"Stealth. It told you that once Rebecca," Sean said with mock aggravation.

"So radar won't pick us up in the storm?"

"Not necessarily. It certainly makes things a little more difficulty. There's equipment that can pick us up though. I'm doing this for the sake of throwing off Umbrella," Sean said. He'd just recently joined up with the renegade S.T.A.R.S. They needed a pilot, checked his file. Umbrella wasn't paying him off like other S.T.A.R.S. members they knew of. They told him the situation and the stories. They were even able to produce some pictures and files. Sean was eager to join up and be the pilot for the next mission. They were meeting up with their other friends in Paris before they were going to infiltrate a huge island lab called Torel. It was a prison island just outside of the France mainland.

Rebecca was looking forward to seeing Chris, Jill and Barry again. Jill had a new friend with her too. His name was Carlos something or other. He had helped her escape from Raccoon City before it had been wiped off of the map.

"All done," Claire said, handing Rebecca the mirror.

Rebecca looked herself over. Her hair was cut back to her preferred length and it looked pretty good the layers Claire had cut into it.

"Thanks a million, Claire," Rebecca said.

"No problem," Claire replied.

"You should cut your hair shorter too. It only gets in the way," Rebecca suggested.

"If I get hard core into the anti-Umbrella task force stuff then maybe I will. I'm too attached to it for right now," Claire admitted ashamedly running her fingers through her own hair.

"We should be nearly there by now," John said.

"Yeah we should but I don't think Sean knows where he's going!" Rebecca joked, hoping to get a rise from Sean.

He jokingly put his middle finger in the air and waved it around a bit. Rebecca laughed. Sean was a very polite man when things were serious but had a tendency to be dirty and vulgar when it was time to joke around. Rebecca shook off the impolite gesture and took it for what it was supposed to be.

She found her thoughts shifting to someone she'd known for only a short while. He and Claire had entered Rebecca's life just after the incident in Raccoon. She remembered looking on Claire, Sherry and Leon. They were dirty from head to toe and wounded too. They looked like they'd been to hell and back.

_ That's not too far from the truth._

She didn't know Leon very well. He wasn't a quiet kind of person once he had some time to get comfortable with his environment, yet he and Rebecca had made little conversation. He was with the group for a while; he joined them on their mission to Utah. He received a message from a woman he'd met in Raccoon. Her last name was Wong—Rebecca remembered something. Trent himself had delivered the message. The woman wanted to meet with Leon alone. Leon couldn't refuse.

She remembered that Claire was shaken up when she found out he was leaving. She seemed a little bit upset. She wanted to go with him but wouldn't delay any longer in seeing her brother. They said their bittersweet goodbyes and then he was gone. No one had heard from him in a week and a half. Rebecca didn't want to judge him because she didn't know him well enough. She didn't know his relationship to and with this Ms. Wong.

_ Ada Wong,_ she thought remembering the name.

"Alright, we're coming in for a landing. Get in your seats and buckle your seatbelts please," Sean said, trying to sound like an airline flight attendant. Rebecca laughed quietly. She was already buckled into her seat. She only left her seat to get out of the bathroom and certainly never took off her seatbelt. She couldn't wait to get to the hotel.

* * *

In a just an hour and a half the renegade S.T.A.R.S. and Claire Redfield were checked into a tacky, cheap hotel just outside of Paris. Claire and Rebecca shared a room, as did the men. Sooner than later, Jill Valentine would be joining them in their room. They had another room reserved for the rest of the men who'd be coming along. They didn't bother to do heavy unpacking, because they planned on leaving in the morning with the intention of carrying out an assault mission on Umbrella's Headquarters. Claire was scared. She didn't figure that Chris would let her go on the mission anyway, but she was still scared.

She thought that she'd handled herself pretty well in Raccoon. She also had the responsibility of caring for Sherry Birkin. As delightful as it was to get to be a part of the young girl's life it was a trial. Sherry was safe now—and that was the most important thing to Claire next to finding her brother.

She longed to see him again. It had been far too long since she'd last been able to hear his voice and touch his face. When Leon had left her she felt abandoned all over again. First her parents, then Chris, and then Leon—the people closest to her had a tendency to leave, die or disappear without warning. She had decided once she had hold of Chris again she was never letting him go. If he told her that she couldn't help in bringing Umbrella down then she'd force him to retire to safety with her. If he refused to do that then she would go with him wherever he went. She didn't have it in her to lose him again.

She heard the cell phone ring in the men's room and thought for sure it was her brother calling to tell her he was only minutes away.

"Phone," Claire said simply and Rebecca got up to follow.

They both got up to see who was calling.

David's phone ran without warning. He jumped when it first vibrated on the table and began to hover noisily on the tabletop. He looked at the caller ID just as Claire and Rebecca came into the room. He noted that they didn't knock but was not bothered by it.

The number was completely foreign to him. He sent the call to the voice mail.

"Who was it?" Claire half-pleaded-half-demanded.

"Don't know. Didn't recognize the number so I sent it to voice mail. I'll see what they wanted," David said. He started to dial his voice mail when the phone vibrated in his hand again. He jumped again.

"Same number," he said curiously.

"Answer it," Claire said. "It could be Chris."

"No, I know that number by heart. He wouldn't call from any other number; I can guarantee it. I'm sending them to voice mail because I don't know who it is," David replied. Every time he tried to check his voice mail the anonymous caller would desperately try to get through.

_ Who in the hell?_

* * *

Trent was unhappy with his current state of mind. He had just gotten out of a meeting with Jackson and the other big wigs. They had finally pinpointed the renegade S.T.A.R.S. and were having Xander's men see to their capture. He couldn't allow this to happen. It would ruin his plans—it would ruin his revenge.

_ No! NO! NO!_

"DAMN IT!" he exploded. He took a deep breath. Every time he would dial the number and get through he would get sent to the voice mail. He had never tried to contact the S.T.A.R.S. like this before but this was desperate. They were literally moments away from being captured or killed. He wasn't done using them yet and he needed to protect his pawns.

_ What about Drieth? He could find the Maynor boy for me. He's in Paris too. He can warn them. It's their only chance._

He stopped calling David Trapp and started dialing Mathis Drieth. He listened to the ring with uncontainable anxiety.

* * *

"Hello?" Mathis said into the receiver. He didn't recognize the number on his ID.

"Mr. Drieth, do you know who this is? If you do, just say yes. Don't say my name on the phone," Mathis leapt from his skin and back into it again.

"Yes," he said.

"You need to call Derek now. Some—friends of mine are in dire trouble. I can't get through to them. What hotel is he staying in?" Trent asked.

Mathis told him the name of the hotel and listened to Trent explain the situation with the renegade S.T.A.R.S. in the briefest of ways.

"Consider it done—sir," Mathis said deliberately avoiding his name. They didn't say goodbye—Mathis started dialing as soon as he had hung up.

* * *

"Hello?" Derek said.

"Derek! Listen to me mate! You have to help someone. They are in your hotel room right now. Do you remember the newspapers we read about Raccoon City?" Mathis asked.

"Yeah, what's going on?" Derek asked.

"Just listen! The military police force that blamed the whole ordeal on Umbrella, you remember?" Mathis asked.

"Yeah, the S.T.A.R.S." he replied. He was getting agitated.

"A decent size group of them is in your hotel in room A-17," Mathis explained.

"Yeah, so what?"

"Umbrella is on their way to capture them," Mathis said.

"Really? Umbrella here?"

"Yeah, you need to go warn them that they need to flee as soon as possible," Mathis said.

"What room again?"

"A-17 and A-18," Mathis said.

"Consider it done," Derek said. They hung up with each other. Derek unzipped his bag and pulled out his father's Colt handgun. He disengaged the safety, chambered a round and tucked in his jeans, underneath his shirt. He was room C-23. He left his room and started off in a brisk jog towards the elevators. It was very late at night and all of the guests were supposed to be in bed. Derek was happy that no one was about in the hotel. The elevator responded immediately to his call. He began his bittersweet decent hoping that he could warn them in time.

* * *

Xander watched from afar as his men filed into the hotel flashing fake badges to the security officer. He lit a cigar and was ready to bring his bounty. He recited the names in his mind.

_ Chambers, Trapp, Andrews, Chester, Burton, Valentine, Redfield._

He couldn't wait to have them all in the Torel Island Prison, marked and ready to be Umbrella's guinea pigs. It was the perfect revenge for all the trouble they'd caused.

* * *

Derek watched the men knock down the door, aim and start firing dart guns. He heard the sound of someone heavy hit the floor.

"Run!" He heard from another man. He heard glass breaking and shuffling in the room. Derek took a deep breath. The time was now. He poised his gun, took aim for one of the Umbrella agents' heads and pulled the trigger. The explosion from the handgun was second only to the cherry-red eruption over the hotel wall. The man dropped down to the ground to a painless death. He fired again and hit another man in the body. He must have been wearing a vest because he did little more than stumble backward from the jolt.

From inside the hotel room watched a blonde-headed, bearded man hit a standing Umbrella agent open palmed in the face. He and a young, girl with brown hair turned and ran into the adjoined room. They disappeared. Another young girl with brown hair stood to fight a man twice her size that'd cornered her. He knocked easily to the ground. She struggled, still kicking and flailing about.

Derek pulled the trigger twice and put a bullet in the man's vertebra. As Derek advanced towards the scene he felt the reassuring weight of his Wakizashi at his hip. The girl got to her feet and looked bewildered at Derek.

"Who?" was all she could manage.

"We have to go, NOW!" Derek said. He turned to escape and saw an impossibly large man advance on him. Derek's gun was knocked easily from his arms. Derek rolled and unsheathed his sword. He sliced at the man's belly and watched blood spray across the wall as Derek felt fabric and flesh give way under his blade.

The man let out a horrible shriek and toppled to his knees. Derek had barely noticed the big black guy or the other middle aged guy on the floor. Both had darts protruding from their motionless bodies. Behind Derek's assailant were more men with dart guns. The young girl in the room turned tail to run and received an onslaught of darts into her back. She fell to the floor but not before crashing into the table and chair setup on the way down.

Derek tried desperately to swing his blade into the next agent but felt tiny pricks all about his body. One in the arm, two in the chest, one in his neck—soon everything was blurry and he could no longer stand up. He felt himself falling—falling into despair and into Umbrella's clutches.


	3. Chapter Two

TWO 

Jennifer Farce chugged her glass of water after taking two strong painkillers. She had a headache that could kill an elephant. She had been looking at her case files for far too long. She had a mission to accomplish; she was the best in her department. Jennifer was a six-year veteran in the FBI. She handled top-notch cases that sometimes were a matter of national security.

Right now she was working on catching the fugitive S.T.A.R.S. that were on the run. All of the trouble had started out in Raccoon City, but there had been reports of other such cases around the world. She had detailed background information about each and every one of the S.T.A.R.S. members involved. She was hot on their tails too. She had actually stood in one of their hideouts. Her orders were to arrest each member from the bigwigs in the FBI. She had planned on doing just that but something had changed her mind.

She shuddered at the mere thought of the man. She still didn't know how long he'd been in the room before she'd discovered his presence or if he was there before her.

_He probably knew I was coming—he was probably waiting for me._

Trent, if that was indeed his real name, had given her secret files from a branch of the pharmaceutical corporation called Umbrella. Actually, it was a top-secret branch of Umbrella that dealt with computer technology, military technology and supplies and finally, chemical and biological weaponry. The pictures of the creatures were still fresh in her mind. They all had technical, biological names like T-121 but they had nicknames that seemed more appropriate.

_Licker, Dac, Scorp, Spitter, Tyrant, Nemesis, Cerberus—creepy._

She had been carrying hardcore proof of Umbrella's illegal activity. She asked Trent that if he had such beef on Umbrella to help the S.T.A.R.S. bring it down, and he had files that could shut them down, why didn't he. He smiled and told her to destroy the files without showing them to anyone in her bureau. She had asked why and he told her that Umbrella had the FBI on their payroll. The big decision-makers were paid big to help keep Umbrella's activities secret. She did research in the treasury department to discover that one of the primary contributors to the FBI was a dummy corporation called Lighthouse Pharmaceuticals. She did research and discovered this was a corporation owned directly by Umbrella Inc.

_Tough break._

She knew there was one person that she could trust. Jerry Perkins, her boss, would never accept money from Umbrella. She had showed him the files just before she shredded them. She had also put in her early retirement notice for the FBI. Jennifer didn't need the money. She loved the job; it was her life. Her father was wealthy and he married an even wealthier woman after Jennifer's mother died. Jennifer was up to her ears in inheritance since her father and stepmother had died.

She had a crazy idea stored up inside of her and she was more than ready to hop on it. Jennifer had always had a strong sense of justice, one too strong for her own good. She knew deep inside that there was evil that lurked in the ranks of Umbrella. She was going to expose them for what they really were to the world. It would be sublime. She needed proof of her own. If she could infiltrate one of the key Umbrella labs and collect some hard data with photographs and computer files, she could bring them to the justice system. It would work—she had to trust in that.

She was packing the last of her things. She and Jerry were going to Paris, France. They'd discovered that there was an island just south of the mainland. It was called Torel. Umbrella had an immense militia station there, along with a huge experimentation laboratory. What haunted Jennifer was the prison. There was a small-scale prison right there on the island. It was full of Umbrella's enemies. She had to wonder what kind of torture those poor men and women endured. She would find out when she went there. She would gather all kinds of hard data. She would see to the undoing of this company. Her cell phone rang. It was Jerry.

"Talk to me," she said.

"I'm ready."

"Me too."

"You sure?"

"Don't patronize me, Jerry. I'm ready for this."

"We don't know what we're getting ourselves into yet. Are you sure this is worth it?" Jerry asked.

"You don't have to go," she offered.

"I'm begging you to stay. I don't want you to get killed and I certainly don't want to die," he added.

"There are things worse than death," Jennifer said.

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"Justice that has not been served," she replied coldly.

"Still trying to live in your father's shoes?" Jerry asked with a certain agitation in his voice.

"I'm not trying to live in them, but he wouldn't be a bad person to model myself off of," Jennifer said.

"So take all that damn money and go to law school, Jen! Be a lawyer like your old man and serve some justice. You'd be hella good at it!" Jerry was yelling into the phone.

"He had his way of serving justice, this is mine," she said flatly.

"Jennifer…" he started.

"No. You can't talk me out of it. If you don't want to come that's fine. I wouldn't hold it against you. You have a lot to lose. You have Alma and the kids," Jennifer said. She was now half-hoping that he would back down. She knew better.

"No. I can't let you do this alone. If you believe in this so much then you can count me in, right there beside you," Jerry said.

"Thank you, Jerry," Jennifer added quietly.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," Jerry said.

"Okay, buy," she said.

"Bye, kiddo," he replied with an unseen smile that she knew was really there.

Jerry and Jennifer had been inseparable since the day that Jennifer got signed on for homicide six year earlier. Before Jerry had got his promotion and became her boss, they'd been partners. They'd also had an affair.

She could still smell his sweaty body up against hers. She could taste the salt on his lips. Their sex was very wild, hard and animal-like. It was, she thought of a word to describe it.

_Primal._

She remembered the waves of warmth that washed over her body when he touched her. It was fun; it was euphoric. It wasn't an affair really, she thought after a while. They'd had sex one time and it was a spur of the moment thing. They'd only spoken of it a few times. She knew that he was a married man and loved his wife and kids very much. Alma would leave him if she found out. It had been more than five years since it had happened. Jennifer wondered if Jerry felt guilty about it. She'd have to ask him.

They didn't look like they belonged together anyway. Jerry was a tall, strong, black man with a deep, booming voice. His arms, legs chest and even back were unrealistically hairy. He looked like a big black bear. His hair was so kept so short that he didn't even need to comb it in the morning.

_He probably doesn't even have to dry it._

Jennifer was short and athletic. She had long, blonde hair that was one length. She had green eyes and a perfect, fleshy tone for skin. Her voice was soft and gentle. Even if she were to violently scream at someone she sounded as if she had just increased the volume of her voice. She hated it. She tried her best to hide or alter it. It proved to be no use.

Jerry was her best friend despite him being ten years her senior. She couldn't define the relationship that they had. Sometimes, they were friends, sometimes they were father and daughter, and one time, they were lovers. She loved him, though she was the furthest thing from in love with him. They looked like total opposites of each other.

There was an unfamiliar knock at the door. Jennifer chambered a round in her Glock 17 and tucked it in the back of her pants. She had no peephole that would let her see who was outside. With one hand on the gun she opened the door just a hair and she nearly cried out when she realized who it was.

* * *

Leon brought the jeep to slow, screeching stop. The screech could even be heard over the Linkin Park CD in the player. He was in an alley in New York City. He was next to a warehouse that had to be abandoned. There, as Trent had told him, was the garage entrance into the warehouse. It was not as Trent had told him, open. Leon put the car in park and leaned his head back against the headrest. It had been a long trip from Utah to New York. He flew to St. Louis first and then finally to New York. Instead of getting a rental car, Trent had given him the keys to a red jeep that he promised to Leon.

_He probably bought it just so that I could use it. What kind of person has money like that to spare?_

The jeep was new too. It had exactly seven miles on the odometer when Leon started it up and looked at the digital counter. He smiled when he saw it. It was everything that his old jeep was not. It was new, didn't smell and had a great system and a CD player in it.

It still had not clicked to him that he was going to reunite himself with Ada. He'd accepted it as fact that she was long-gone and buried under what remained of Raccoon City. How could she have escaped? It wasn't too hard to assume that there was another way out of the Umbrella lab. She could've left the way the rest of them had come in. There wouldn't have been time though. He wanted answers. That was all that he knew for certain. Was she able to retrieve the G-virus sample that he'd thrown down after her? Was she able to get to it and take it to Umbrella so that she could collect her pay? What did he care?

He turned the music off. He didn't feel like listening to it right then. He didn't feel like listening to it in the first place. He'd done it to feel normal. He turned it on in hopes that he would get into the beat and forget that Umbrella wanted him dead. It had barely fazed him. Nothing could silence the questions in his head.

Out of nowhere the garage door bolted up and an unusually bright light beamed out at Leon. There, stood the silhouette of a woman that recognized all to easily. He still stared in disbelief as she stepped forward. She was dressed in black cargo pants and a black tank top. Her hair was longer than Leon last remembered her and had streaks of a lighter color in it. Her face was utterly unchanged. She was still as deceptively beautiful as Leon remembered her. She motioned for him to pull the jeep in and he did as instructed.

The garage door closed behind him. He got out of the car to face her, unsure of what to expect. She looked upon him, smiled forcefully.

"Hello, Leon," she said, with also an unchanged voice. Hearing her voice was like listening to a tape recording of someone's voice that had died. It was like hearing from the realm of the dead. It was eerie.

"Ada," he said. There stood there for a moment, facing each other, staring into each other's eyes.

"I escaped the lab," she said. He fought the urge to laugh. He did smile a little.

"Apparently."

"I'm glad to see you again," she said. He could tell that she was hoping he'd return the phrase. He fought the urge and forced himself to remain cold.

"I have questions."

"I have answers, Leon. There will be plenty of time for that. Come here," she said. Although she had instructed him to come to her she advanced upon him. He felt his feet move involuntarily and he embraced her. She returned it. It felt right and yet so wrong at the same time. It was like hugging the dead; like hugging a zombie. His mouth went dry and her held her tighter.

"I'm back," she whispered in his ear.

"I know—I know," he replied.

* * *

Jill sat restlessly in the car. She was in the back seat. Barry and Chris were in the front.

"Barry, faster!" She protested.

He gave her look in the rearview mirror that told her to cool it. She had to admit that she sounded like a little kid. She was being ridiculous. Trent had given them the call that their friends were in danger. They were heading straightaway to the hotel. Chris looked even more restless than Jill felt. He was scared for his little sister, Claire. Jill had never met Claire but she'd heard plenty and seen just as many pictures. Claire was all that Chris had in life as far as family went. He loved her more than the air in his own lungs.

Jill could only hope that everything was going to be okay. She sat back in the car and tried the phone call one more time. This time she wasn't calling David. She was calling the new recruit, Sean Chester. He had a personal cell phone that he carried on him. She knew that it was dangerous to call a cell phone from a commercial account that could be traced but Jill was desperate. She knew that the guys wouldn't object to her calling anyway.

The hotel was in sight but Jill let the ringing continue. Abruptly someone answered the phone.

"Hello?" said the voice half-demanding a reply.

"Chester?"

"Depends on who this is," said the voice.

"February Fourteenth," she said, hoping he was bright enough to catch the code on the first try.

"Valentine," he said. "What's your twenty?"

"Eagle's nest," she said shortly.

"Be there in twenty minutes."

"Anyone with you?"

"Just the usual three," he said. The usual three, meaning _me_, _myself_ and _I_, was code for saying that he was alone.

She hung up without saying goodbye.

_Shit._

Claire wasn't with him. She hoped, for Chris's sake that nothing had happened to her. She didn't want anything to happen to any of them but Chris cared only about Claire at this point. Whether she was safe or not was all that mattered to him. Jill knew and understood this. Part of her was jealous that she could not share a place in Chris's heart like Claire. She didn't want to replace Claire but she just wished sometimes—

They were at the hotel. Barry parked and the three of them went into the hotel. There were police and ambulances there—not a good sign. They knew for fact that everyone else was in rooms A-17 and A-18. Jill walked in and turned to the right, following the signs. She was ahead of the guys but Chris ran past her in a panic.

"Claire? CLAIRE?" he screamed. There was blood all over the open door and the wall closest to it. The room they were staring in was in disarray. There were the bodies of men in black suits scattered here and there. The police and ambulances had not yet come into the hotel to investigate. Jill, Chris and Barry were the luck ones to witness the scene first. They looked all about and discovered that there was no sign of any of sign of their friends. All of their clothes and toiletries were unpacked but they were nowhere to be seen.

Jill took a certain curiosity at the splash of blood in the room. It was a knife wound without doubt. If the dead body of the man killed by it were not there she still would have been able to tell. It splashed in a line like it'd been flung from a knife blade.

Chris let out a defeated sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"We can't stay here," Barry said.

"We have to wait for Chester," Chris objected.

"We'll wait in the lobby. We can't stay in _here_. It's too suspicious," Barry said putting his hand upon Chris's shoulder. Jill knew it was of no comfort to Chris. His priority was finding Claire.

They left the room and entered the lobby. They sat down and said nothing. They waited a half hour and there was still no sign of Chester. They'd watched the ambulances carry out the bodies of what were most likely Umbrella assassins in body bags on stretchers. Jill felt guilty about feeling no remorse for the men's deaths. They belonged to Umbrella, which was her enemy. Therefore, they were her enemies. It sounded so heartless in her head to think of the loss of human life so lightly. Her war against Umbrella had changed her into a different person.

Finally, Sean Chester walked into the door. Jill had never met the man. She's seen a picture. The only one who'd met him personally was Barry. He was even better looking in person than he was in the picture. It was that blonde hair. He looked like he'd come from another world. They motioned for him to come closer. He advanced and looked at them angrily.

"We can't stay here! Umbrella could be back soon to collect the rest of us," he said. They didn't object. They all shared the same notion just to go to the car and drive away. The four of them filed out to the black sedan. They didn't speak until they were around the corner of the hotel.

"What happened?" Chris demanded turning around in the seat to face Sean. He was sitting in the back with Jill.

Jill's eyes watered a little when he told them the story of the assassins. They had to have been from Umbrella. He said that they were shooting tranquilizer darts. He said that he knew for sure that they'd got David and John.

"Claire and I jumped out the window and split up as soon as we hit the ground. I ran for the park and didn't stop until I got there. That was not less than forty minutes ago," he said.

"Why'd you split up?" Chris said. Jill could nearly taste his agony.

"I don't know. It just happened that way. We didn't decide to split up. We were both running for our lives. We didn't even have time to look back and see if anyone had escaped," Sean continued.

"So she's somewhere in this city?" Chris said. He looked at Barry hopefully.

"We'll look. Of course we'll look," Barry said.

No sooner than he spoke the window exploded with a gunshot from the SUV next to them. It was Umbrella.

"GO!" Jill found herself shouting. Barry floored the accelerator. Chris was already upholstering his Glock. Barry grabbed for his Colt Python and Jill for her own Beretta. She handed Sean her thirty-eight backup. They passed the SUV. They were lucky to have not been hit with the bullets from the shot. The back windshield exploded with a horrible sound. Glass hit the back of Jill's neck and slid down into her shirt. She unbuckled herself and turned, gun poised, ready to fire. Sean followed her example. She started firing at the windshield of the SUV. The bullets bounced away easily. It was bulletproof. Jill cursed unconsciously. She ducked down and let Sean give it a go. On his first try he hit a tire. Jill knew because she could here the rubbing. She looked up and watched him fire the more powerful thirty-eight at the windshield. It cracked but didn't go through. The driver and passenger of the SUV shot aimlessly out the window in the general direction of the car with automatic weapons.

She watched as Sean took careful aim and fired again. To her astonishment the second round had hit only millimeters away from the first. He did it again with the same results. It clicked in Jill's mind what he was trying to do. He was trying to make the glass penetrable. He fired the remaining shots to no avail.

"Barry can I see your Python please?" Sean asked. Jill thought it was funny that he'd actually taken the precious time to say please. Barry tossed the powerful, magnum revolver to Sean.

"Watch this," he said to Jill. He closed one eye and pulled the trigger of the gun. The windshield gave way and the top of the driver's head disappeared. The SUV swerved to the side and smashed into the concrete barrier. It flipped up in the air, landed upside down. Sean fired again, this time at the gas tank of the SUV. It exploded with a violent, hot shockwave. Sean smiled and let out a laugh.

"Fuckers!" he exulted. Jill didn't know what to be more surprised about, Sean's murderous attitude towards their pursuers or his unruly accuracy with a revolver. He was even in a bouncy, moving car. Chris was the best shot that Jill had ever seen with any gun. Sean took the cake as far was accuracy went.

"I don't think they'll be bothering us anymore," Sean said. "Sorry I cursed, Miss Valentine. No offense intended," he said. She laughed out loud.

"None taken. You really nailed those…those…" she stared.

"Fuckers?" Barry offered.

"Yeah. You really nailed those fuckers," Jill said.

"Yeah, well they had it coming. We need to find out where they took David and John—and possibly Rebecca," Sean pointed out.

"What about Claire?" Chris said frantically.

"I'm sure she's fine," Sean said.

"Fine? Umbrella is out there and they are looking for her too. If they find her they will kill her!" Chris was in a rage.

"Chris…" Jill started.

"No!" he silenced her. "We have to go back for her."

There was a silence. Everyone else knew to go back would be suicide. Jill also knew that to not go back was abandonment.

"She knows your cell phone number. She'll call," Sean offered.

"Let me out," Chris said.

"What?" Barry demanded.

"OUT! NOW!" Chris screamed. Barry obediently pulled the car over.

"I'm going to find her. I'll call you and we'll arrange a safe pickup for the both of us," Chris said getting out of the car. Jill got out too.

"Chris…" she said.

"Don't try to talk me out of it. I've made up my mind. You can't come with me either," he added.

"I just wanted to tell you that I…good luck," she said. She was going to say that she loved him. She'd kept a secret for too long. Somehow, he was able to read her. He took her in his arms and kissed her on the mouth. She returned the kiss.

"Thank you. Stay safe," he said.

"You too," she returned.

"Always."  
And with that she watched Chris jog away into the night not knowing if she would ever see him again. She could only hope. She could only hope that he'd be okay.

* * *

Claire was in a car and was driving towards the Umbrella Headquarters. She had to find Chris. She had a feeling that she could wait for him there. In truth, she didn't know what she was doing. She had stolen a car, a gun and was on her way into the enemy's lair. She wasn't going to just march right in. She was going to do what she could to sneak in and see if there was a way to destroy it from within. She could hope for a self-destruction mechanism.

_What am I doing? Where am I going?_

She clutched her gun in her hand. It was the only way of defending herself she had left. She pulled the car over into an off road trail. She had to get some sleep before she was going to march in on Umbrella.

Part of her wanted to go back to the hotel and wait for Chris. She knew he'd be there. She also knew that big, scary men in black suits with dart guns wanted to get her. She'd stood and watched as they hauled out David—then John—then Rebecca. Claire was about to leave, know that she could do nothing. They hauled out one more person. Claire didn't know who it was. He was young, her age perhaps, and he was unconscious like the others. Who was he? Did it really matter? He was as good as dead now.

She found herself going to sleep with only one name on her lips and in her mind. It was not the person that she thought she'd be thinking about. She thought she'd be worried only about Chris as she had been for a month. She could still smell his soapy smell amidst the smell of rotting flesh. She could still see his reddish hair that hanged down on either side of his face.

_Leon…_

* * *

Jennifer stared Trent in the face for the second time in her life and was sorry to have to do it.

"May I come in, Miss Farce?" Trent asked jovially.

"By all means," she said and opened the door wider. "What's this about?"

"The S.T.A.R.S. have been captured by Umbrella—some of them anyway," he replied.

"Which ones and how many?" she asked.

"What does it matter?" he asked.

"You're going to tell me where they are and help me bust them out, right?" she asked.

"Maybe, but I want to know why you think that," he looked troubled. This seemed unnatural too. When she'd met him before all he did was smile relentlessly. He smiled with that sneering, eerie smile.

"I don't know the details but you have something against Umbrella. I don't care what or why. You need the S.T.A.R.S. to do your dirty work. It's part of your revenge. Now that they are captured you need me and Jerry to go and rescue them, don't you?" he was beyond troubled. For a moment, he looked flabbergasted. Then, the smile crept its way onto his face one more time.

"Yes. You intrigue me more than you could understand, Miss Farce. You have an uncanny talent for reading people and you've almost got me figured out. That's besides the point. In this folder is everything that you need to know. You need to leave as soon as possible," Trent said.

"We already have tickets for Paris," she protested.

"You're still going to Paris, Ms. Farce. Just read. I must go before Mr. Perkins gets here. He doesn't take well to strange men on his turf. _Au revoir_," he said. With that he left. She opened the file and looked at the first page of the papers.

"Torel Island," she said out loud. If she had known what was lying in wait for her and Jerry there, she would have thrown the papers into her fireplace and forgot about it. If she'd have known it would have been safer to waltz up to the Umbrella HQ, knock on the door and ask to be let in she would have done it. Nothing, could have prepared her for what she was going to witness at Torel—absolutely nothing.


	4. Chapter Three

"You did well, Xander. Please don't get me wrong. You got three of them," Jackson, chairman of the White Umbrella board was speaking. All around the table was the different men who were high up in the Umbrella ladder—including _him_. Of all of the men on the board, Trent was the one who got to Xander the most. He was so utterly creepy. Creepy didn't even come close to the right word to describe him. Trent needed his own language to describe him. He was just that different.

"I didn't get them all. I didn't complete the mission as requested," Xander was beating himself up more than the others were. He was a perfectionist by nature. Having the attitude to overachieve also kept him his job. Slackers didn't go too far in Umbrella—especially went it came to disposing of Umbrella's enemies.

"You got three of them, including one of them that has been causing us trouble from the beginning," a man whose name had slipped Xander's mind spoke. Xander felt like he was going to vomit all over the table. He had _failed_. There was no other way to put it. They had killed several of his men, and at least four S.T.A.R.S. members had gotten away.

"Redfield, Valentine, Burton and Chester all got away. The mission was a failure," Xander said plainly. Xander had a very interesting job in Umbrella. He was called the Gatherer. There were a few others like him in Umbrella but he was by far and some the one with the greatest renown. He knew that White Umbrella was counting on him to take care of the meddling S.T.A.R.S.

"They will be dealt with. We have a few questions for you, however," Trent asked icily.

"Yes?" Xander looked them all in the eyes, confidently.

"First, do you know who the other boy who you captured is?" Jackson asked.

"His name is Derek Michael Maynor. He's from Australia; he's seventeen. I don't know what he was doing with the S.T.A.R.S." Xander said.

"We can't figure it out either. They are on different continents. How could he have possibly been in the same place at the same time as the S.T.A.R.S.? It all seems so convenient."

"He killed three of my men," Xander pointed out. All he received was blank stares. They didn't value his men; they valued their power and their money.

"Despite the mystery behind the Maynor boy, he's being held at Torel with the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. He will also undergo the same fate," said Jackson with an evil smile. Xander knew that the prisoners faced horrible torture that was worse than death. They would eventually be nothing more than mindless killing machines for Umbrella. They would become a B.O.W. It was sublime revenge.

"Did you see Redfield's sister there at the hotel?"

"No. She either wasn't present or she managed to escape very well. My guess is that she escaped with Chester," Xander offered. They all seemed to swallow this.

"What about…" Trent paused deliberately to look at a name on a piece of paper. "Leon Kennedy?"

"I doubt seriously that he was there. If he was, he was capable of evading us as quickly and skillfully as the Redfield girl," Xander said.

"Skillfully?" beamed Jackson.

_Wrong choice of words, Xander! You idiot._

"You speak as if they have on up on _us_," a man accused.

"They got away from us didn't they?" Xander challenged without thinking.

"They got away from _you_, Xander," Trent smiled.

_Shut up you prick!_

"That's not important right now though. You'll receive your pay for the three S.T.A.R.S. members that you did capture. I'll even throw in a bonus for the boy out of my own pocket," Trent said removing his checkbook.

_Pay time_.

"We do have another proposition for you before you collect your money for the S.T.A.R.S.'s capture. If you succeed we'll give you what we would've given you if you were able to apprehend all of them and double it," Jackson said.

"I'm interested," Xander said ruefully.

"We've located Mr. Kennedy and he's rendezvoused with someone of our particular interest—_your _particular interest too," Trent raised an eyebrow.

"Wong," Xander whispered with hatred. Ada Wong was his a real competitor for him. She was bad for business. She was the best freelance agent in her field and Umbrella loved her. She had always had successful missions. Even though she was though long ago dead in Raccoon she was still able to come in, torn to shreds and turn in an envied G-Virus sample. She got her paycheck and her bonus and retired.

"Yes, Ms. Wong has taken a certain liking to Mr. Kennedy. We'll get to the point. We want them both dead. Kennedy is a nuisance who happens to know too much and Wong has betrayed us. Both must die," Jackson said.

"Tell me when, where and how. Then, consider it done," Xander said.

"That's what you said about capturing the S.T.A.R.S.," Trent pointed out.

_I'd like to hang you upside down and watch you burn, Trent._

"I won't fail," Xander hissed.

"See to it that you don't," Trent said.

"Here is all the information that you need. You don't even have to make it look like an accident. Just make sure that no one can trace it back to Umbrella," Jackson said sliding a file folder down the table.

"New York, eh?" Xander smiled. He loved that city. It was the best place to go shopping with all of his money.

"You leave tonight. That will be all, Xander," Trent said.

_I'm going to take pleasure in killing you someday Trent._

As if reading his mind, Trent gave him a look that seemed to say, _you couldn't kill me if you tried_. Xander didn't like it. It sent a horrible chill down his spine. Xander walked away and out the door. He had to regroup and prepare for the mission. A smile crossed his face when he realized that he'd only have to kill two people and he'd be enjoying all the money that was promised to him in the first place.

* * *

Ada Wong's cell phone rang. She was in the bathroom. Leon was waiting right outside the door, sitting beside it. They hadn't gotten the chance to really talk. He'd only been at the warehouse bonus room for fifteen minutes. Most of what she'd done was to welcome him. She gave him tea and some cookies. She played some music. She was beating around the bush. She had a horrible feeling that he hated her guts and wanted to kill her. Leon wasn't like that; Ada knew better. He'd forgive her once she explained herself and asked for forgiveness. She washed her hands dried them as quickly as possible and went to snatch the cell phone.

"Telephone," Leon said plainly.

"This is Wong," she said into the receiver answering it.

"Hello, Ms. Wong," said the voice. "Do you remember me?"

"How could I forget, Trent?" she scowled over the phone. She could feel an old hatred bubbling up inside of her.

"Has Mr. Kennedy managed to find you yet?" he asked almost jovially.

"Yes, he's here now," she answered plainly.

_Get to the point, Trent. This line isn't secure._

"Put me on the speaker phone. He's going to want to hear this too," Trent said.

"Okay you're on," Ada said activating the speakerphone.

"Can you hear me well enough?" Trent asked.

"Is that Trent?" Leon asked.

"You know him?" Ada's mouth was agape.

"Yeah, I've had the—pleasure of meeting him about a week and a half ago. Hello again," Leon said with disdainful spite in his voice.

_He doesn't like him either—big surprise._

Trent laughed a little. It bothered him in mere nanometers that the two of them hated him. He had an agenda of his own and obviously wasn't around to make friends.

"I'll get to the point, this line _is_ secure though," he said. Was he reading her mind now?

"I just got out of a meeting with Kelly Xander. You remember Kelly Xander don't you, Ms. Wong?" Trent asked.

"Yes, I remember him, Trent. He was a real prick. It's Ada, not Ms. Wong," she said.

"Very well, Ada. He has just received a new mission. He's on his way to New York to assassinate you and Leon," Trent said.

"What?" Leon nearly leapt from his chair.

"Yes, the entire White Umbrella board gave him the mission to assassinate the two of you. He'll be in New York in thirteen hours," Trent said.

"Well, that will give us plenty of time to get out of here," Leon said.

"That's just the thing. I want you to do me a real big favor," Trent said.

"Not interested, Trent," Leon snapped.

"Please hear me out," Trent said. It was more of a command than a plea.

"Make it quick, Trent," Ada said.

"I want you to kill him," Trent said.

"Why?" Ada asked.

"Not just Xander, but his entire assassination team," Trent said.

"How about—no!" Leon said nearly screaming into the phone. Ada could have done the same. Who the _hell_ did Trent think that he was anyway?

"What is in it for us?" Ada said.

"For one thing, you should be grateful that I warned the two of you in the first place. As far as what is in it for you, let's just say that I have a piece of information that is very important to Leon," Trent taunted.

"Oh yeah, what would that be?" Leon growled.

"Rebecca Chambers, John Andrews and David Trapp have been captured. Claire Redfield is missing. I have a feeling that she's going to be caught soon, however," Trent said.

"Liar! They're all fine. I'll call them now!" Leon was upset. He picked up his own cell phone.

"You can check for yourself if you must. I promise that you will find what I said to be perfectly true. If you get Xander and his team out of my way I will tell you at what prison island they are being held. You may still have time to do something about their rescue," Trent said.

"Trent, you sick bastard! Just tell me where they are!" Leon said.

"Leon, don't worry. There are only three places they could have been taken and I know where they all are," Ada said.

"Don't you think that it'd be too late by then, Ada?" Trent taunted again. Ada knew it was true. She looked into Leon's eyes. She could tell he knew it was true.

"Who exactly is this guy you want dead?" Leon demanded.

"He's an Umbrella assassin. He's actually called a Gatherer because he specializes in bringing in Umbrella enemies alive. He's the one responsible for your friends' capture. His orders are to kill you however. Ada knows most of this but it won't hurt to refresh.

"He'll have as many was twelve men at his disposal, all highly trained with military background. They have snipers, marksmen, and grenadiers—the works. You need to get them all into the warehouse. Xander won't go in. He's a coward. He'll be waiting outside in a black SUV.

"He may be as clever as to try to set the building on fire and prevent your escape. He has many devises at his disposal…"

"That's great, Trent. We'll be ready for whatever he throws our way," Ada interrupted.

"There is just one more thing, Ada," Trent said with a smile that she could sense through the telephone.

"What?"

"He may bring B.O.W.s."

* * *

Jennifer and Jerry were on the flight to Paris. They had to smuggle their Glocks and other not metal firearms in their suitcases. They'd planned to do some black market shopping when they got to Paris. Trent had informed them that it would be entirely unnecessary. He'd have a warehouse full of anything they could possibly need. It was a long flight and Jennifer was getting restless. She fidgeted around in her seat. She was probably annoying Jerry.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm alright; I really don't like long flights and that is what we're in for," Jennifer said.

"That's true. I'm not much for thirteen hour flights either. I think there are bigger things to worry about. Are we really going to bust these fugitives out?" Jerry asked.

"That's the plan, Jerry," Jennifer said nonchalantly.

"What is Trent's deal?"

"He's obviously got some beef with Umbrella," Jennifer said.

"Yeah, but what?"

"Who cares?"

"I do. We're letting this guy in on our lives, and what's more he's planning our mission now. How do we know we're safe?"

"If he wanted us dead he'd have done it. He needs us to bust the S.T.A.R.S. out," Jennifer pointed out.

"Why us?"

"We're probably one of only a few good guys left high up in the FBI. Everyone else seems to be on Umbrella's payroll," Jennifer added.

"Wonder why the two of us were never approached or offered any money?" Jerry pondered.

"I guess we were the unlucky ones," Jennifer said.

"We're going to take on the biggest supplier of medical and military technology all by our lonesome, and we're not getting paid for it. Are we sure we're on the right side?" Jerry raised an eyebrow.

"That depends on what's more important to you."

"What do you mean?"

"Justice or money."

"Ah, I see. That's what I like about you, Jennifer. You would never let a sin go unpunished as long as you have breath in you."

"You make me sound so judgmental," Jennifer laughed.

"No, not judgmental, but just," he looked at her as he said this. She looked back into his eyes. She couldn't take her gaze away. She felt his hand move across her inner thigh. She shuddered.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked her.

"I'm thinking this flight is too damn long," she said. She advanced and kissed him passionately on the mouth. He returned the kiss violently.

"I was thinking we should put that first class bathroom to good use," Jerry said.

"See you there in a minute, lover boy," Jennifer winked and headed to the bathroom.

* * *

Kyle Brown sat at the table of advisors. They looked at him with anger, disappointment and resentment. He was in trouble and he knew it. He hadn't been successful in what he'd promised he'd do. Umbrella had assassinated people for that. He didn't want to die.

"You are a miserable failure, Mr. Brown," a man named Lawrence said.

"You give Umbrella a bad name. I never had faith in you from the beginning," said another man.

"I need more time," protested Kyle.

"You've had two months plus! You could have at least shown progress in two months!" The headmaster of Torel Island lab, Oscar Bennett said. Oscar was being as harsh as absolutely possible. Kyle was Oscar's recent son-in-law and he hated him for it. Kyle had married Oscar's daughter, Leah after two years of secretly dating. Oscar wanted Kyle dead, but it didn't look like the rest of the men were as bloodthirsty as Oscar.

"The G-virus is a complicated thing! It was created by a total genius! The G-virus is Birkin's life work. It can't be picked apart and analyzed so easily. It certainly cannot be duplicated—yet," Kyle said.

"You can duplicate it?" Larry asked.

"If I'm given enough time, yes. Not only will I be able to duplicate it but I also will be able to perfect its flaws. My team is the best you've got in Umbrella. If you give me more time I promise to give you a killer virus," Kyle took care in putting just the right amount of stress on the word killer. Kyle was lying. He'd had plenty of progress with the G-virus. He played the fool so that he could find a buyer that paid more than Umbrella. He'd found one too—from a place he never thought possible. He was selling the new G-virus, or Neo G-virus as Kyle called it to a man he'd met looking through the Umbrella payroll archives.

He couldn't find a name but he still remembered the meeting. He also remembered the guy was trying real hard to look and act cool. He was wearing sunglasses at nighttime—Kyle nearly laughed at him out loud. He was dressed head to toe in black and spoke in an icy, calm voice.

Kyle only needed to stall the bigwigs at Umbrella for a little while longer so that he could make his escape. His plan had completely backfired on him. He was facing suspension, expulsion or—worse.

"You've given us nothing but empty promises. How do we know you're not just saving your paycheck?" some man asked.

"Or your life," Oscar half-threatened.   
"You don't. You're going to have to take a leap of faith on me. Give me twenty more days and I promise you will see astronomical progress," Kyle said. He figured the short amount of time was not too much to ask. His planned succeeded.

"You have twenty days and not a second longer!" Larry said. Oscar scowled at him. The rest of the men filed out and it left the two of them staring each other face to face.

"You'll get yours, Brown," Oscar hissed.

"Not before you, Oscar. I promise the surprise I've got in store for you will just—knock you dead," Kyle chose his words carefully.

* * *

An hour later Kyle was in he and his wife's living quarters. Leah was on the bed, in red silk looking outstanding as always. She wasn't too happy though. She had a scowl on her face.

"We're really lucky, dear," she said.

"You think I don't know that? They could have had me killed. We have to do something tonight. I can't really show them the progress in twenty days. They'll take all the samples and keep them for themselves. They'll give me my money and kick me to the side just like all of the other virologists," Kyle said.

"I have a plan. It's the only way that all this will work," Leah said.

"What's that?"

"We'll have to tear this place to shreds, Love," she said.

"You think I care?"

"I didn't. In that case, listen to me. We release all of the B.O.W.s from the security room, but not before cutting all of the communication so that no one will be able to call for backup from Rockford or HQ. We also use a scrambler to interrupt all cell phones. We hide in a safe place and let everything die down. After a while we put the scrambler down and call in for help to get rescued. Umbrella will look at it like another Raccoon City. It's sublime," Leah explained.

"It's sinister," Kyle added.

"Sorry."

"I like it."

"Now," she said, pulling off her top to reveal to firm, beautiful breasts. "Let's have some fun before we put our plan into effect."

"I like your idea of fun," he said reaching out to put his hands on her body. He squeezed her bare breasts under his sweaty hands. He licked his lips and brought himself closer to her.

"I knew you would," she said. She ran her hands over his shoulders, down his chest, purposely skipped over his crotch and continued down his legs. She tore at his belt and fought to get his pants off as he reached to dim the lights.

As they stood their naked he tossed her on the bed and jumped into it himself. As he began to make love to her he was convinced this woman was the best thing that ever happened to him.

* * *

Oscar watched his daughter and her husband have sex from his own quarters. He'd set up surveillance cameras to watch them. As much as he hated seeing that man's hands on his daughter, he had to confess he loved to watch when they made love.

_Enjoy her while you can, Brown._

He sat motionless and watched them continue as he plotted ways to kill his son-in-law. He smiled at the thought of all the horrible things he'd do to him before he finally killed him. Oscar could not fight the urge to laugh out loud as he let the bluish glow of the screen wash over him.

* * *

After they'd finished Leah let her husband hold her close as he ran his hands up and down her arm. She snuggled closer to him. They _had _to get away from her father and away from Umbrella. If it meant killing every single person on the complex to do it—

_So be it._

She hated growing up under her father's wing. She'd rebelled when she realize that he loved his work more than her. She quite ready to kill him and anyone else who would foil her and her husbands plans for a good life. With this mystery man in sunglasses buying the G-virus for such a ridiculous amount of money, they could retire on a tropical island somewhere—somewhere that wasn't rainy, damp and cold like Torel.

The more she looked around at her humble quarters that Umbrella had provided for her and her husband, the more she wanted to burn the emblem that was on wall flag. She wanted to watch the tiny pillars of black smoke rise from the debris of the entire complex. Even if she couldn't have that, she still had to get away.

"Kyle?" she said suddenly, barely realizing she'd spoken out loud.

"Yes, Love?" he asked.

"I want it to happen tonight," she said. "You have the virus sample here. Let's just forget all the stuff here, let's do it tonight. I can't bare to stay another night in this hell," she said. She looked at him with eyes that she knew would move on him to give her what she wanted.

"Tonight? Are you sure? I—I guess we could do it. We'll get dressed. You go to the roof and I'll go to the security room above the lab," he said.

"Will it be safe? There's the guards in there and then the B.O.W. will be released," Leah pointed out.

"I have the thirty-eight in the drawer. I'll kill the guards. The development team is doing a test for the advisors tonight. They are testing the Hunters' kill performance. I will take the emergency elevator and lock it behind me. They will never know what hit them," Kyle said.

"What about the other doors? There are other routes of escape," Leah said.

"That's easy. I'll set the security to go on a three-minute lockdown. I will the activation on a timer so that it gives me enough time to get out. When it goes off all the doors will be locked down for three minutes. That should be more than enough time for the B.O.W.s to do their work in the lab. After that, I'll set them loose on the rest of the complex and on the barracks. No one will no what's coming," Kyle said.

"Except us," Leah corrected.

"Except us," Kyle echoed, kissing her. They got up to get dressed and put their plan in effect. It was only twenty minutes until the test. They had to act quickly if they hoped to succeed.

* * *

Mathis had been dialing Derek's number for hours. There was no answer. It was the must frustrating and scary thing he'd had to deal with. He had a horrible feeling that Derek was in danger, or worse yet, dead. He wouldn't be able to deal with Derek dying, especially since he was doing something for Mathis before. He didn't have to do it either. He had fallen victim to Trent's manipulation.

Mathis didn't know what to do. He had a feeling that Umbrella had either killed him or taken him captive. He was tempted to give up but there was a perfect opportunity for him to find out. He got on his computer and began hacking away at the Umbrella mainframe. Everything was working perfectly. He started using the Chaos program and soon enough he was getting anywhere he wanted to go. He hadn't the slightest idea where to start looking for information about people taken captive by Umbrella.

It was a real shame that he was unable to call Trent. He didn't know the number that Trent had called him from. Trent also couldn't just show up when Mathis needed him. Mathis realized the providence of Trent giving him the RACU. He'd _eventually_ be able to find all the information that he needed about Derek's whereabouts. Even Umbrella kept records of all the dirty work they did.

Mathis kept digging. He was going to do all that he could to help his friend. If he couldn't be there in the flesh he could certainly work his magic on the computer.

* * *

Leah cut the communication cord, powered down the radio tower and smashed the dish into pieces. She turned on the scrambler in her quarters with a remote from the roof of the lab. She pulled out her cell phone and tested to make sure it was working. Her cell phone was as useless as a paperweight. Now, it was all up to Kyle.

* * *

Kyle walked into the security room as if he owned the place. It had a huge, impenetrable glass window that overlooked everything that happened in the lab. Below him and straight across was the viewing room where Oscar and all the other bigwigs were. They were getting ready to witness a Hunter tear a goat into shreds. Then, they were going to put in a lion to see how a Hunter would suffice against the 'king of beasts'. Kyle had to act while everyone was unsafely on the floor.

He upholstered his thirty-eight, aimed the gun at the back of an innocent man's head and pulled the trigger. The sound was horrible but the sight was to Kyle's dark pleasure. The man's brains exploded from a hole in his face and splashed on the computer monitor in front of him. Kyle aimed the gun at the woman sitting next to the man. She looked at him with fear and surprise. He didn't give her time to react. He pulled the trigger and watched her face implode with a cherry red explosion. She collapsed to the floor and twitched a little.

"Wait! Please don't kill…" the second man started to protest with his hands in the air. Kyle couldn't stop himself. It was just too much to watch his chest explode with blood and water.

_BAM!_

The bullet went all the way through with a spray of blood against the wall. The man fell out of his chair and onto the floor with a horrible thud. Though tears from nowhere were streaming from Kyle's face he was laughing like a demon. He hit the 'all release' button, set the security to his liking, and watched the carnage begin. The Hunters, Lickers, Dacs, Scorps, and all other B.O.W.s held in containment, besides the Tyrants and Nemeses, we're released on his former coworkers.

He watched as a woman named Helen was impaled by the claws of a ruthless Hunter, and as a man named Dennis was stung countless times but innumerable Scorps. He fell on the floor, stiff with paralysis and they started to eat. The people tried to run but it was to no avail. They were caught and eating. Blood and gore was everywhere.

"Beautiful! BEAUTIFUL!" Kyle exulted. It really was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his life. He forced himself to turn away and take the elevator. He watched as a wounded man came stumbling towards it. The man tried to get in but Kyle shot him in the ankle and watched him scream in agony as the Licker chasing him caught up with him. The doors closed and ensured Kyle's safety. He went to the roof so that he could be with is wife. It was such a shame that they couldn't enjoy Torel's undoing from a better place. They needed someplace to go while the initial wave of B.O.W.s ate. Soon, they could call for help and play dumb. They'd be rescued and Torel, burned to the ground. It was such a perfect way to get what he always wanted.

Suddenly his thoughts fell on the S.T.A.R.S. that were recently captured and brought to the containment cells. After the three-minute lockdown their cells would be automatically opened so that they could roam freely. Then again, the doors for the B.O.W.s to make themselves at home were also opening so Kyle gave them no second thought.

_They all die. They'll all die and it's my doing. I'm finally powerful! I'm finally rich! I'm finally going to get what I deserve!_


	5. Chapter Four

Waking up was like being born, Derek thought. There was a phenomenon of light overhead. He looked to his immediate left and there was mirror window that showed that he was shirtless and strapped to a table. To his right was a stainless steel table with all matter of surgical tools on it. To Derek's relief none of them appeared to be bloody or used. The lights were powerful enough to emit the low, buzzing hum that lights on high do. It was a constant droning noise that made Derek cringe.

He tried to move but failed. He struggled a little more and managed nothing. His ankles, waist, chest and head was restrained and held tightly to the table. Derek started to panic. He wriggled with all of his might. He grunted and huffed until he saw his body turn red with strain in the reflection. He stopped and took a deep breath. He could see his chest rise and fall in the reflection.

"SOMEBODY HELP ME! HELP! IS ANYONE THERE! HELP ME!" he screamed with all of his might. He screamed likewise a few more times, until he was out of breath. He was more scared than he'd ever been in his life. For the first time, he noticed the IV needle coming out of his hand. He panicked even worse that before. In a fit of rage and fright he struggled to get his body free. He wanted that needle out of his hand. He didn't know what cruel and unusual serum that Umbrella would pump him full.

_Or if they already have._

Once again he was completely held to the table. He could do nothing to free himself. He was trapped, imprisoned, held captive. He closed his eyes, and did the only thing that made him feel better when he was helpless to do anything on his own. He felt a tear roll down his cheek as he began to pray to God.

Help me, deliver me, rescue me, please. I need you. I need you now more than ever before.

As if a sign from Heaven itself the speaker blared out an unwavering tone. It was an obvious signal to get the attention of all who were in the building. There was not a speaker that Derek could see in the room but he still heard the message as clear as day.

"Attention all Torel personnel, this facility is on temporary lockdown. All doors will be locked and sealed for three minutes. Please remain still and calm. After the three minutes have passed all doors will be unlocked. At that time, please standby for further instruction. Thank you," the voice said. It was a cold voice with a British accent. It was obviously computerized.

For the first time, Derek took a careful look at his restraints. They were metal bars with thick foam on the bottom of them for comfort's sake.

_Maybe—just maybe_.

Derek thought that in three minutes the restraints and the door to his containment chamber might give way. He could certainly hope.

_Please God, please_.

He closed his eyes and continued to pray as he simultaneously counted down the minutes.

* * *

Rebecca was awakened by the sound of a voice over a loud speaker. She looked at her restraints. She was on an operating table and there were scalpels and bone saws to her immediate right. She could only hope that the restraints were powered by the main security system. She'd have the opportunity to run if both the door and the restraints were released. She couldn't help but to count the seconds. Her thoughts fell on her comrades. Were they alive? Had Umbrella already done horrendous experiments on them and turned them into killing machines? Was she the only one in her team left—again? What about that boy who'd showed up to help her? Where was he? _Who_ was he?

With a hydraulic hiss and a mechanical buzz the door opened freely. Rebecca smiled at first but her joy turned quickly to horror as she realized she was still restrained.

_SHIT!_

* * *

When the door to the containment chamber opened and John's restraints were not released he cursed out loud.

"DAMN IT! NO!" he exclaimed. He felt his muscles flex to their max as he pushed with all of his might against them. It was to no avail. He was stuck in a rut with nowhere to go. He could only hope that someone would come soon. The situation looked so hopeless though. He wanted out of his restraints and he wanted out as soon as humanly possible. He struggled all the more and then heard a sound that was eerily familiar. It was a scream, a human scream that comes only with the terror of death.

* * *

David heard an inhuman scream that sounded animal. It sounded like an eagle screeching as it swooped down in its prey.

These sounds, accompanied by thumps of bodies hitting the wall and the floor could be heard from below, above and from all sides. David didn't know what was going on but he didn't want to stay around to find out. He had one problem—his restraints. They could probably only be turned off from a remote control panel separate from the rest of the security system.

He tried to devise a plan in his meticulous mind but nothing was surfacing. He was facing the terror of being held down against his will and hearing the sound of what could only be death and carnage from everywhere around him. He had nothing to his advantage. He was at fate's hands of unsure mercy or judgment.

_What am I going to do? Where is everyone else? THINK!_

* * *

The bloodbath in the hallway was nothing like the 'slasher' movies Pierre had seen as a teenager. It wasn't the sight that bothered him so much; it was the noises. People's—no his coworkers'—gurgling screams as they were torn to shreds and eaten by Umbrella's demonic creations. There were _so many_ creatures and almost as many different kinds. Some flew, some jumped through the air, some crawled on the floor—others on the ceiling. All had one basic need: the need to feed. They were all starved for Umbrella's experimentation purposes. Something had obviously gone wrong with the security system. Now, all of the demons were unleashed, and were hungry to eat until the black hole called their stomach was filled.

The bulletproof glass and the prison bars protected Pierre. He was the only one in the security cage when the lockdown happened. The doors had been thrown open but when Pierre saw the creatures coming he'd pulled it closed and locked it again. None of his coworkers saw what was coming until it was too late. Despite their gruesome deaths at the hands of the monsters, they were the lucky ones, Pierre thought. He was the one who lived on a little longer to witness their horrible deaths.

Suddenly one of the creatures was standing right outside the cage door. Pierre screamed and backed against the wall. Another one, the one that resembled a scorpion was using its tail blade to hack away at the window in attempt to break it and enjoy its next meal. Pierre didn't feel like dying today. He grabbed the shotgun from its case and loaded as the one outside the cage reached its impossibly long arms in to scratch at him.

When he'd loaded all five shells into the shotgun he took aim at the creature. He paused for only a second to watch a long stream of drool drip from the frog-like creature's tortured jaws.

_BLAM!_

The creature's face disappeared into a bloody oblivion and its body was sent flying to the way directly behind it. With a wet _thwack_ the body bounced from the wall to the floor again. Pierre pumped the shotgun again. He had to be ready in case another one came through.

_CRASH!_

The window had given way. Pierre looked just in time to see the tail of the scorpion creature stab a large coin-size hole into his shoulder.

"AGH!" Pierre grabbed his shoulder with his free hand. He felt the venom going through his system already. His vision was starting to blur and he was really, _really_ stiff. He gritted his teeth involuntarily and attempted to raise the shotgun to fire only to receive another paralyzing sting from the scorpion creature.

Pierre fell back and flailed his arms a bit. He tried to grab the control panel for support but only succeeded in hitting the restraint release for the prisoners. They'd have a chance to escape. Pierre tried to smile, as he knew they wouldn't make it out of there alive. He looked in the window and saw the scorpion creature crawl through the floor. Pierre was lucky to be numb of pain as the creature began to eat. He saw his leg muscles and tendons being torn apart by jaws and claws but didn't feel a thing. Instead, he felt good. As he closed his eyes, knowing he was dying he felt a wave of euphoria wash over him.

* * *

Derek was up in a flash as soon as the restraints were released. He tugged the IV needle out of his hand and a little spot of blood landed in the floor. He bolted for the door. As he made his exit he looked to the right and there was a picture of what could only be hell. Demonic creatures feeding on the bodies of the dead or dying, horrible, agonizing screams, all of it flashed into Derek's face. He didn't know if he was having a nightmare or if her were really experiencing some sort of hellish reality but he knew that right was definitely the wrong direction to go.

He looked to the left and saw and exit door at the end and nine more doors leading to rooms that Derek had no doubt were identical to his containment chamber. Out of the next three doors appeared faces that were only vaguely familiar. The big, black guy, the middle-aged, good-looking fellow, and the young girl were all emerging from their own cells.

"Let's go!" cried the latter man with a thick British accent. Derek didn't wait for a second command. He headed in direction of the exit door at the end of the hall with the rest of the prisoners. There was a horrible crash and inhuman scream behind them. The creatures had broken through the second window and had broken through the drywall of the console wall. There were dozens of creatures running full speed to catch their prey.

Derek froze. The creatures were like something from a monster movie. It was unreal. There was no way he was really awake and living, seeing something that existed only in the imagination of horror filmmakers. They were closing in and Derek couldn't bring himself to move.

"C'MON!" the young girl, about his age grabbed his arm and tugged him with force enough to get his feet moving. Derek kept running and didn't look back despite the temptation to look at the creatures behind him. He felt groggy, and it was hard to move. It had to be the drugs wearing off slowly in his system.

Derek had reached the stairs and watched the rest of the prisoners—the S.T.A.R.S.—and followed as best he could. The creatures were through the door and also descending the stairs. Actually the creatures were jumping entire flights of stairs and crawling down the walls trying to get to the four running prey.

One creature, as Derek could only describe as a mutant, frog-like, beast with teeth and claws jumped between him and the girl. It turned to face Derek and swiped is claw at him. Derek, out of reflex, ducked the swing and returned it with two punches to the creature's face. The creature scream from what seemed like surprise. Derek kicked up and forward with all of his might, dealt the creature a horrible clout in the mouth and watched hit roll down the stairs, hitting every one on the way down.

More creatures had jumped between him and the others; he couldn't fight a whole army of those creatures. He was midway down a flight of stairs. He looked up and saw his escape. There was a door that was opened. Derek bolted for it and could hear creatures roaring, screaming and jumping all around him. He let nothing stop him as he rushed for the opened door and turned in a flash to close it. To his relief the door closed and he heard a click as it automatically locked.

Derek wasn't surprised at his physical condition. He wasn't out of breath, his heartbeat was almost instantly steadied, and he didn't have a drop of sweat on his body. He still, took a deep breath. His mind was racing at uncharted speeds. He had to keep moving, he had to find a way out of the hellhole he was in.

_First you need to find something to defend yourself with, mate—before you get yourself killed._

He looked around at his surroundings, his mind still darting ahead of him. The entire floor seemed abandoned and empty. All of the doors were opened however, he could take a stroll anywhere that he wished. He started walking towards the room closest to him. It had royal blue carpet and curtains to match. He was obviously in an office with a view. The huge desk in the middle of the room looked to be made of cherry wood. There were shelves with huge, thick books about genetics, virology and medicine. Derek scanned over them quickly. Then, he looked to the right. He smiled. It was a huge black case with hunting rifles in them. They looked like antiques. He approached and tried to open the case. To his total lack of surprise, the case was locked. He tried to open the drawers underneath and they were unlocked.

The drawers were amazingly well organized. In the first drawer were tools for cleaning and disassembling the rifles. In the next drawers were metal polish and other miscellaneous gun parts, all in a separate compartment.

The last drawer was what pleased Derek the most. There two different kinds of ammunition in this drawer. There was also dozens of different kinds of magazines that obviously loaded into the rifles. One kind of box was marked .556, and the other .223. Derek knew a thing or two about guns. The .556 would have more stopping power but the most common rifle round was .223. He pulled out five boxes of .223 rounds. That was one hundred rounds, he counted. Now, the only problem he had was getting himself a rifle. He quickly dismissed the idea of looking for a key.

He picked up a heavy book off of the shelf and from across the room chucked the book at the glass case with all his might. With a might crash on of the windows of the case gave way. Most of the glass landing at the bottom of the case. Derek had almost forgotten that he was running around half naked. He had been dressed in plain white boxers that were too big for him. He had no shoes or socks on. He needed to find some clothes, he decided. He approached the glass case, careful to avoid any glass on the floor. He took down several of the rifles and began to examine them. Two of them took .556 rounds so he set them aside.

There were two rifles left, both taking .223 rounds. He loaded each of them with ten rounds in a magazine, disengaged the safety and pointed the first one out into the hall. He squeezed the weighted trigger and held it down. Only one round came out and the recoil was horrible. His shoulder would probably bruise from it. Derek looked to see if there was an automatic setting on the rifle. He didn't find one. He tossed that one aside and picked up the next one. It was a heavier rifle and seemed to have a sturdy feeling about it. He pointed out into the hall, squeezed the trigger, and held it down. The gun kicked and all ten rounds emptied into the wall outside.

A smile crossed Derek's face as he began to load the magazines that would fit the gun he had in his hands now. Anything got in his way from now on, he'd pop them full of .223 rounds, he decided. He had to find a way out of this place—wherever that was—and fast.

* * *

Rebecca had been split from David and John when a scorpion like creature had come between them. She found a nearby door and continued to run with all of her might. Her head was throbbing and her side ached from running so hard. The only thing that kept her moving was the will to stay alive. She could hear the scuttling of the scorpion creatures behind her. She couldn't fight the urge to look back. She stole a glance and saw an army of the over-grown black scorpions behind her moving faster than she was. They were gaining on her—fast. She had to move and move faster. The floor that she was on had people running in every which direction, trying to escape the onslaught of creatures.

She hadn't the slightest idea where she was going but she continued on at full speed, occasionally dodging the random person who would happen to keep her from her escape. She stole another glance behind her. Some of the workers in the lab had fallen victim to the creatures' stings. The creatures themselves were crawling on the floor walls and even on the ceiling. There were _so many_ of them—endless swarms of them, moving at impossible speeds in hopes to devour their next meal. Rebecca continued to run with all her might.

_Left! Right! Right! Run! FASTER!_

She finally came to what could have only been the last thing she could have hoped for: a dead end. She faced a window that didn't look like it could be opened and there was a solitary door to her left. She bolted for it, not caring where it led. She closed the door behind her and backed away, out of breath and scared for her survival.

_CRASH!_

With no warning, a black spike broke through the wooden door, splintering it at the top. More and more spikes continued to poke through. Finally, the scorpions' claws and ugly faces started to appear through the cracks of the door. Rebecca felt like curling up in a fetal position and awaiting her fate, but her mind wouldn't let her. She started to look around for another way of escape. She was in some sort of sitting lounge. There was a coffee table in the middle of the room surrounded by lounging chairs. There were vending machines side by side on the far wall. Next to that was a counter with a sliding door above it. There was an open door that led to a kitchen.

_GO!_

As soon as she bolted for the kitchen the bottom panel of the wooden door gave way and a scorpion creature squeezed through. It moved like black lightning. It was like nothing Rebecca had ever seen. It looked at her, she couldn't see its eyes but she knew it was looking at her. It made a horrible hissing sound that reminded of her of a way a cat hisses. It held the toneless hiss for a horrible while. Rebecca backed away, turned and continued for the kitchen. She could hear the monster scuttle with vigor to catch her. She got to the kitchen and turned to swing the door closed. She slammed the creatures claws in the door and couldn't shut it all of the way. She tried to force it shut, hoping the creature would withdraw its hands. The thing was hissing horribly. Rebecca looked around for an alternative.

_Aha!_

A meat cleaver was upon a cutting board within her grasp. She grabbed the thing and brought the cleaver down on the joint of the claw. She hacked off one claw in two swings to reveal a horrible, sticky, unpleasantly aromatic, white blood. With one more mighty swing she hacked off the remaining claw and the steel kitchen door clicked shut. She turned the lock, and thought of the fickleness of that. The creature wouldn't use the knob if it could get through.

The creature hissed and banged at the door making a ruckus. She still clutched the heavy cleaver in her hand. She sat it down and looked around her. There was no other door leading out, as huge as the kitchen was. It was bigger than her parents'. She leaned against the counter and decided to take a breather before she continued on. She needed to collect herself—

SCRAPE! 

"Shit!" she exclaimed.

The sliding door above the counter was made out of thing aluminum. The creatures were tearing at it greedily trying to retrieve their prey. They tore it open, some still tearing and some trying to squeeze through. Rebecca had to think fast because she was in a corner with no weapon but a meat cleaver. She saw it, her last chance of escape: a dumbwaiter. It was a huge thing and could easily accommodate someone of her size. She rushed to the door, tugged it open and pressed the send button. She climbed in and sat as the thing moved surprisingly fast. Her descent was short and she could only imagine what terror lied in wait for her at the bottom.

* * *

John could only hope that Rebecca and the other kid had made it okay. The number of B.O.W.s was unreal. Even if they had weapons to defend themselves they'd not be able to hold back the raw, carnal force of the creatures' hunger. David and John were still on the run. Only a few of the creatures were still on their tails. They'd been able to evade most of them. Being on the run wasn't exactly John's cup of tea, as David would say. He'd much rather have a couple of Uzis to hold his own against the creatures. Uzis, John didn't have. They had to keep moving and find a safe place to lay low for a while. Then, of course, they'd look for some heavy artillery that Umbrella was bound to have lying around somewhere.

"John! Left!" David said, pointing to a door. John obeyed and plunged into the room. David was close behind him and they closed the door. John reached down to lock it. John looked and saw that they were in a bathroom, the women's bathroom at that.

"Time for a pee break?" John joked. David laughed although he didn't seem to appreciate the joke.

"Why do you insist on joking at a time like this, John?" David hopelessly asked.

"There's always time for a little light-hearted humor, Davey Boy," John replied.

"Davey Boy?"

"Sorry," John grinned.

"You should be. Let's see if we can find our way out that window," David said pointing. John looked and didn't like what he saw. The window was not very big. John could fit out of it if he needed to—it'd have to be a life or death situation though. John smiled.

_What the _hell_ do you call this? I'd say it's life or death._

David toyed with the lock and tugged the thing open. It was storming outside. John didn't take time to notice the lightning or the rain when he was running from Umbrella's nightmarish bio-weapons. He sure as hell took notice now. It was really coming down.

"Lovely weather," David understated.

"So you can be sarcastic but I can't be funny?"

"Not now, John," David said and meant it.

John peered down and saw that it wasn't as far down as it could have been. They were only on the second floor of the complex. There was a dumpster directly below the window.

_Convenient—couldn't ask for anything more._

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" John asked.

"Yeah, I'm thinking providence is smiling on us and you can lower me down," David said.

"Then what?" John asked.

"Then I go and find some weapons or a way to communicate with the world outside. We have to call Barry and the others," David said.

"Okay, weapons first please," John said with a toothy grin.

"Typical," David shot back.

There was a rattling at the door. It was a big, heavy steel door. It wasn't likely that the creatures could break through. John would be safe in the ladies restroom for as long as necessary. David, on the other hand, would have to trek around in the rain and hellish environment. John was scared for David, especially not having so much as a peashooter to protect himself.

"I'll be fine, John," David said, as if reading his mind.

"I know. You're good and you don't have to convince me," John said.

"I won't be long," David said placing a reassuring hand on John's shoulder. John returned the hand.

"You better not be!" he smiled again.

John helped David up to the widow. He held onto David's hands as he leaned out and lowered him as low as he possibly could. It wouldn't be a very violent fall now that David was dangling out of the window. The pavement below was in between two buildings. There was fencing to keep people from going out into the actual forest of the island. Both buildings were long, full of windows and doors. David would have some exploring to do. Lightning flashed and John let go of David's hands. David landed without sleeping on the top of the dumpster. He jumped one more time onto the wet pavement below. David looked up at the window and gave John a thumb up as he turned to his left and ran out of John's sight—leaving John all alone.

_Come back for me, friend._

* * *

Leah sat, loading a deadly serum into the tranquilizer darts. Poison was her specialty and this one was exceptional. It struck the nervous system going straight for the brain. It worked so quickly that the victim was actually dead before they felt the prick of the needle. She and Kyle were going to need something effective to use against the B.O.W.s. Bullets were great but they didn't have the stopping power that biology could hold. She smiled as she continued to load each canister with just the right amount of the serum.

The only guns that she had that could shoot the darts were two dart pistols that only held three darts at a time. In the armory were rifles that could hold six and shot with much better precision. Hopefully, they wouldn't have to spend much time there at the lab before they were rescued. The pistols would suffice for now, she decided. She'd made thirty-six darts with serum in it. That was enough for them each to have eighteen darts. She didn't think that they would need that many. Then again, she remembered just how many hundreds of B.O.W.s the lab supported.

_Four hundred and four to be exact._

Her husband had even let out the Tyrants and the Nemeses. Those beasts were next to unstoppable. They were impervious to pain, and would not cower when weak. She wasn't scared of those creatures though. One shot from her dart would but those things down instantaneously. Those particular creatures, oozing with virus as they were, would probably be able to evacuate the serum after some time and stand on two feet again. Still, nothing to worry about as long as she had her gun.

She could still hear the screams of her former coworkers. She could only smile and continue loading tranquilizers.

* * *

Every telephone the Derek tried was completely dead on the floor he was on. He didn't think that he'd have much luck anywhere else in the building. If the computer consoles had Internet access and they were DSL hookup instead of dial-up, he just might have the chance to contact Mathis. He had no idea where to go in this nightmarish reality. He was in another office rummaging through drawers. He was reading a file about some biological experiment. Most of the technical stuff was foreign to Derek. His brother was the science whiz. The memo that came with the file was easy enough to understand.

** Mr. Phelps,**

** The experiment is showing huge success. Using a hybrid of the two viruses, I've been able to implant embryos into the subject with stability. No involuntary mutation of any kind. The subject is able to control his newfound strengths in the hybrid virus. He can call up the virus to mutate his body at will and reverse the process so that he is completely normal again. Think of the virus as having a 'Bruce Banner' effect.**

** Yours, **

** Tiger**

Derek recognized the name Bruce Banner as soon as he saw it. It was the alter ego of the comic book hero, The Incredible Hulk. He didn't really understand what hybrid viruses were but he could make enough sense out of it. Someone had superhuman abilities that they could summon and contain at will. Considering they were directly associated with the Umbrella Corporation it didn't sound like this person was a good guy either. Derek decided it was time to get moving and to find some clothes.

He entered the door that was the furthest from the entrance into the office that he was in. He walked barefooted across the rough, blue carpet to the solid oak door. He turned the handle to find the door unlocked and the room accessible. It was obviously a bedroom or living quarters for someone. It was small, but more that enough to accommodate one person. There was even a bathroom in the far right corner of the room. Whoever had used it last had left the light on. Derek could see the black and white checkered linoleum floor and the shadows cast out from the light inside. There was a wardrobe at the end of the left wall and a chest of drawers straight across, over the bed. Derek went first set down his ammunition for his gun but kept the rifle firmly clutched in his left hand. He tugged open the door to the wardrobe and saw mostly business suits. There were expensive shoes down at the bottom. There was a little drawer down at the very bottom of the wardrobe. Derek tugged it open and saw a glass pane that was locked from the back. It was securing a combat handgun, a .45 from the looks of it. Derek left the gun alone when a shiver went down his back and arms. He was cold running around in naught but his skin. He went to the chest of drawers and tugged the top left one open—socks. He tugged the one to the right—underwear. He went directly down to the bottom right drawer—bingo. There were neatly folded T-shirts of assorted colors. Derek picked up a black one and hoped that whomever these clothes belonged to wore at least a large. Derek could squeeze into a medium if he needed to but it wasn't comfortable.

Ironic in an almost funny way, the shirts were all mediums. Derek even managed to crack a smile. He picked up a black T, put down the rifle for a second, tugged the shirt over his body and grabbed the rifle again. He turned around to see that there was nothing and no one in the doors. He wasted no time opening the drawer to the left to find neatly folded slacks and blue jeans. He picked out a pair of jeans. He checked the size and found then at thirty-two inches around. At least the pants would fit comfortably. He sat the rifle down and tugged the jeans on, zipped them up and fastened the button. He put some socks on and found some tennis shoes in the corner of the room. They were a half size too small but they would certainly manage.

Derek walked over to the glass case holding the gun. He used the butt of the rifle to smash through the glass with ease. He picked up the gun and the three loaded magazines that were in the case. He put the mags in his back pocket and put the handgun into his jean pocket barrel first. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he left the room. He almost didn't recognize his own face. In some inexplicable way his face had changed. He seemed older, more mature somehow. The man that was staring at him in the mirror was not the same boy he knew he was standing in the room. He blinked, turned, and walked out of the room with his rifle ready for whatever hellish being might happen to want to pick a fight with him.


	6. Chapter Five

Five

Rebecca opened the dumbwaiter door waiting to hack at anything that moved with her meat cleaver. She found herself in another kitchen. This one had swinging doors with circular, plastic windows. She could see that there was a cafeteria in the next room through the windows. There were endless round tables with plastic chairs arranged all around them. She didn't see anything but she could hear running, roaring and screaming. That only meant that danger was lurking around any corner. Rebecca decided that she needed to find something to wear and something to defend herself. Running around in a bra and panties wasn't going to cut it. A gun would give her a little bit more security than a meat cleaver. Whichever came first, she didn't care because she needed them both.

She went into the cafeteria and nearly leapt from what little clothes she was wearing. She hadn't seen this particular creature since the underground lab in Raccoon City. They looked like—monkeys—bloodthirsty, demonic little monkeys with wicked claws and sharp teeth. She remembered Umbrella's biological number for them—Ma2. They were feasting on what was left of someone's late night snack. She had a feeling that her fleshy legs would taste a whole lot better than cold tuna fish. She saw that there were two doors out, one to the left and one to the right. The one to the left was open and led to an open corridor. From there, she could hear screaming—bad idea. The other door was closed and there was no way that Rebecca would be able to tell if the door was locked.

She was feeling frisky so she decided to bolt for the door that was closed. With one step she heard the high-pitched squeal of the Ma2 behind her. It had noticed her right off. There were only three of them. If she'd had so much as a peashooter she'd try her luck trying to kill the things but a meat cleaver was too close for comfort. She wanted the things dead _away from her_. They started to pursue her in leaps and bounds. She reached the door and nearly stopped to thank God that it opened. She closed the door behind her and heard horrible scraping as the creatures tried to get to her. She spun and decided that she needed to keep moving. She looked and saw that she was in what looked like a business office. There were cubicles to her left and right. They were all equipped with a file cabinet, a desk, and phone and a PC.

_Lovely! I'm in Umbrella's administration office!_

She saw something hanging on the wall that was of a little bit more interest to her. It was a map of the entire floor that she was on. It was in a big, poster-size, glass frame. Rebecca inwardly shrugged and pulled the frame off the wall. Then she smashed it against the nearest cubicle to her. Glass went everywhere.

_Rebecca you dumbass!_

Broken glass and bare feet were not a great mix. She tugged the map of the floor out and carefully stepped away from the glass. She was successful in not cutting her feet on the debris underfoot. She began to study the map. She was, for the first time, thankful to Umbrella for taking all the time to beautifully label and color code every part their maps so that finding things would be amazingly easy. She looked and found the part of the map that said Women's Dorm. With all of the bright yet naïve young women out there enticed by Umbrella's lies there just had to be one that was her size.

_Time for some breaking and entering_.

She turned to the left hallway and continued past the cubicles and computers. The hallway T-ed and she took a right. She began to think about why the lab would have to have a dorm. It clicked in her head all of a sudden. These people probably didn't have a lot of time at home. Some of them probably lived right there on the complex. Wouldn't those people just be utterly consumed by their work? Maybe those were the kind of people that Umbrella was looking for: workaholics. Maybe they were prisoners here, just like Rebecca.

Maybe you should be worried about the task at hand, remember: STAYING ALIVE!

She continued across the catwalk that led to the Women's Dorm. The catwalk was glass and metal with a carpeted floor. There were little glass windows on the floor so that one could see down to the ground below. It reminded her of going to the St. Louis Science Center when she was a little girl. They had windows like that across their catwalk. With a flash of lightning Rebecca thought she could see a figure out in the rain. In an instant it was dark again and she continued on.

There was a sliding-glass security door and a little security station to the right. To the left was a fingerprint scanner. It didn't look like security would be an issue because the glass door was wide-open. Rebecca continued through the door and noticed that the lights were all down on this part of the building. She couldn't see where she was going. She'd have to find a way to turn one the lights. She went back to the security station. It was just a three-foot-by-five-foot box with a control panel in front of it and a small locker in the back. She eyed the panel and found it was all in French.

_Just my luck._

She started pushing buttons at random. She pushed a little yellow button surrounded by several others and hallway lights lit up. She pressed the remaining yellow buttons and the entire wing was lit under florescent light. She was just getting ready to leave when she decided to check the locker behind her. She opened to see an Umbrella security uniform that she could tell wouldn't fit her. They obviously had put a very roomy woman at this security station. What was to infinitely more significant interest to Rebecca was the very nice SOCOM combat pistol at the bottom of the locker. There were three magazines and two boxes of bullets to go with it.

_Score._

The .45 caliber pistol was a little bit bigger than her usual nine-millimeter choice. She wasn't exactly complaining. She'd used a gun like the SOCOM before. She started loading bullets into the magazine. Each mag held twelve rounds and she could hold thirteen if she chambered one before inserting the clip. After loading all three mags she put a round into the chamber and inserted the clip. She looked around for a place to put the mags. She sighed and put them into the elastic band of her underwear. It was a poor place to put them but it would have to do. She looked down at the locker again and smiled. There was a laser sight fitting that would go on the bottom of her gun. She'd have dead-on accuracy with that. She picked it up and fitted it on the gun. There was also a silencer that could be screwed onto the end of the barrel.

She wasn't exactly on a covert operation, but it couldn't hurt to keep her gunshots on a low profile. She screwed the silencer on and was ready for action. She stood and looked in the little mirror on the wall. She smiled again. If she were wearing black, leather underwear instead of the white, cotton ones she'd be Pamela Anderson from Barb Wire—without the boobs—and the blonde—and the build—without everything. Yeah, she looked nothing like that, she decided again. Either way, it was time to find some clothes, find her comrades, and finally a way out.

* * *

Coming out of the rain was only a little refreshing. David was soaked head to toe, with every hair on his body plastered to his frame. With the white, cotton boxers you could see right through to his skin underneath, giving a peepshow to everything he had. He'd even looked up at the catwalk as he ran underneath it to make sure no one could see him running around in his skin. He was in an armory or weapon depot. He couldn't have asked for anything more as far as weapons went, but what would he do for clothes? There were no windows in the building and its hallways were to narrow for comfort. How did they haul out weapons from this building?

He went into the door nearest to him and found guns and ammo galore. They were all behind metal cages that were not controlled by the Umbrella security system. David had been thinking as he'd been running through the rain in his underwear. There had to be some mistake in the security system to make everything go haywire. Umbrella had to have taken all of the necessary precautions to prevent that from happening. So, what had happened? What if it was sabotage? What if someone within the company was bringing this lab down for their own personal reasons? It didn't make sense but that was only because there were still so many holes to fill. David found a SOCOM pistol in a drawer but all of the ammo, save for the magazine that was already inserted, was locked away.

_It's a good start and better than nothing._

David would trade just about anything for a rocket launcher. He smiled and waved the thought. He moved on to the next room and nearly leapt from the skivvies he was wearing. There were combat garb on hangers and on display. They had everything that he could hope for: boots, cargo blacks, twin pistol holster straps, 16 channel communication earpieces. It was a gold mine in a place like this. There were also mirrors all over the room so he had to watch himself get dressed. He found his sizes in the cargos, the boots, the black shirts, the combat vests, pick himself up a twin pistol holster strap and began to soot up. They even had black socks and black boxers to go with all of it.

Article by article David pulled the clothing upon him. He equipped everything in its proper place and took a good look in the mirror. His hair was still plastered to his forehead. He ran his fingers through it quickly, shaking as much of the water as he could from it. Now he was dressed, he had to find himself some weapons besides the SOCOM. He either needed some wire cutters to get past the cages or the keys to unlock them. Both cases required him to start looking.

He walked around to the other part of the rectangular building. All of the doors were unlocked but some of them were closed. This made David think that someone had been there before him. He smiled when he saw what looked like a checking station. There was a counter and a door that lead back to the room with all of the weapons. David picked up the paper on the counter. He scrolled down and found all of the names in French—not his forte. He went behind the swinging door that led to the back of the counter. There were miscellaneous boxes of ammo all over the place. He picked them up to discover that there were still full with bullets. There were even some bullets for his .45 pistol but it didn't help him any if he didn't have some spare magazines to put the bullets into.

Hanging on the wall was a small ring of keys—exactly what David was looking for. He pulled them off and examined them briefly. There were no labels of any kind on the six keys. He'd just have to try one until it worked. None of the keys opened the door that lead back into the equipment room, which seemed really peculiar to David. He had to take the long way back around—no big deal.

He strutted out of the room he was in as if he owned the place, took a right and continued towards the equipment room he'd come from. As he was walking he heard footsteps that were not his own. He spun to discover on of Umbrella's creatures lurking behind him. David knew what it was from pictures Trent had given him.

_Hunter. Shit._

He didn't know if his .45 would be enough to down the creature. They stared eye to eye at each other—glaring for an eternity that lasted only a few seconds before the creature charged. It was an amphibious blur as it darted, faster than quicksilver. Fortunately for David, he was one step ahead. He poised his pistol, took aim and pulled the trigger. The bullet was a perfect hit the creature's eye. Instead of continuing its charge it clasped it eye and screamed with an unrealistically loud pitch. It tilted its ugly head back and exposed its other eye. David seized this opportunity to put another bullet it the creature's undamaged eye. In a cherry-red explosion the second eye was obliterated.

David was so tempted to finish the creature off with a third pistol round, but bullets were invaluable in a situation like this. The creature bled and flopped around hideously on the floor. It didn't pose too much of a threat blind. It was unusual for the creature to recoil from pain. David wasn't much of a biologist but Rebecca could always put things into terms that he could understand. From what he gathered, Umbrella genetically altered their B.O.W.s to be immune to pain. This creature was very easily immobilized by just one bullet from David's gun.

Maybe their engineering wasn't completed yet. That had to be the reason. That would just mean that they'd be easier to kill.

_No complaints from me_.

David continued around the hall allowing the creature to scream, cry and hold it's blind, bleeding eyes. He had no heart for a creature created only to kill. Going back into the room with the keys to gain access to the weapons was sublime. David couldn't fight the urge to grin, as he pulled down a high-powered, fully automatic, assault rifle. He felt a wave of adrenaline as he loaded the .223s into the magazines. He completely ditched his SOCOM pistol and grabbed twin Colt pistols. They only held ten rounds in the magazine each, but they were much lighter and easier to manage. He was still able to maintain the stopping power of the .45 caliber too.

_John…_

He remembered his friend. He'd had to bring John to this place. He couldn't carry all of the gear and artillery to him. David decided it was time to trek back into the main lab, where all hell had broken loose, and retrieve his partner. He wielded a single Colt pistol and chambered a round. It was time to go.

* * *

Derek was in a rush. He'd taken some stairs down to the ground floor to find an exit out of the lab. There were still a few people trying to escape the hellish monsters feasting on them; it was futile. Without a gun to defend themselves with, they were no match for the genetically engineered beasts.

Derek was in a different position. He _did_ have a gun to defend himself. He knew how to use it too. One of the creatures advanced towards him. He didn't hesitate to hold the trigger on his rifle down as he took aim at its face. With a loud series of booms the face obliterated in an explosion of blood, tissue and bullets the creature hit the floor. Another attacked Derek from his left flank. Derek retaliated with the same prejudice as he did the first.

Derek decided it was time to quit playing Rambo and only use the guns if need be. It wasn't as if his ammo supply was unlimited. Derek ran past the security checks, which were unmanned. He continued towards the huge, steel sliding door. He got to the control panel and pushed the only button that was there.

"I'm sorry. This door is temporarily closed due to complications in the complex. Please try again later," came a voice from the small speaker.

_NO!_

Derek turned and realized that he was a corner, backed up against a door that wouldn't open. There were creatures sprinting towards him. These creatures hunted in groups, Derek noted. One of them looked as if it would be dangerous in itself with its huge muscles, claws and teeth to boot. He was in a corner and had no option but to stand and fight. Derek was ready.

Taking careful aim at the creature to on his left, squeezed the trigger, and felt the butt of the gun kick his shoulder. He counted seven rounds escape the barrel before Derek released. The spray was not as accurate as he had hoped. A couple of the rounds had gone completely over the target's head. The last few had splayed open the top of the creature's skull, exposing a gory display of a brain. The creature seemed to still be kicking, but in agonizing pain. Derek aimed for the middle creature and squeezed the trigger again. He held down the trigger for a much longer time, sending a spray of deadly rounds piercing his target's chest and belly. A spray of hot brass also floated out of the rifle and clattered to the floor. This one didn't cry out but merely hit the floor and flopped around like fish out of water.

The third creature was getting a little too close for comfort. Derek poised himself and squeezed the trigger one more time.

_Budda-budda-click_.

The magazine had run dry. Derek knew that at the speed the creature was moving he would not have time needed to eject the magazine, fish for another, load it into the gun, chamber a round, take aim and begin firing again. Derek tossed the rifle to the ground and withdrew his pistol from his pocket. He fired a round just as the creature leapt into the air towards Derek. The round harmlessly hit the drywall in front of him. Derek saw the creature coming at an unimaginable speed. With catlike reflex, Derek dove down and forward. He twisted his body and rolled so that he turned to see the creature. With its back turned, it was vulnerable. Derek aimed at its high back and squeezed the trigger twice.

_BAM! BAM!_

The first bullet went a little lower and to the left of what Derek was aiming for. The second round hit dead on to what Derek had hoped to hit. There was bony knob on the back of the monster's head that was unmistakably its spine. Only the bullet had enough power to break the bone and sever the nerves and tissue that connected the cerebellum to the spine—an instant kill.

Derek had no time to dawdle, he initially decided to circle back and go the way he had come. He looked, and to his horror, saw an unimaginable onslaught of creatures enjoying their meals, eating as if they'd never before. Suddenly, a closed door opened. There was a woman with short, spiky, blonde hair dressed in a professional business suit.

"Come here! Over here! Hurry!" Derek didn't have time to ask questions. As the creatures moved towards him in hopes of fresh blood, he snatched up his rifle and bolted for the door. He was able to make it just in time. They were screeching, screaming and pounding on the door still desperately trying to obtain their meal. Even with the thick steel between him and the creatures, Derek was not comfortable.

"Are you alright?" the woman spoke with a Russian accent. It was really thick but her English was understandable.

"Fine. We need to get out of here," Derek said.

"The door is strong enough to hold them," she said plainly.

"No, I mean out of _here_. We need to get out of this place. What is this place?" Derek asked. He realized that he was probably talking to someone employed by Umbrella.

"This is an Umbrella medical lab, technology lab, prison and military training facility," she said.

"Is it an island?"

"Yes. The whole thing is called Torel," she said.

"You guys fit all that onto one island?"

"It's a large island."

"Apparently. So what's your story?" Derek asked.

"My story? I don't understand what you mean," she didn't understand the expression.

"Do you work for Umbrella?"

"Yes?"

"What do you do?"

"Computer programming."

"That's right up my ally. Do you know where there is a computer that I can use?" Derek asked.

"Yes. It won't do you any good. They've completely sealed the complex off. There is no outside contact. I tried to use the radio but they have apparently dismantled the communications tower as well," she explained.

Derek didn't realize that he was following this woman to an unknown destination.

"Where are we going?"

"We are going to get out of here," she said.

"You know how?"

"Yes. There are several ways off of the island. There are helicopters on the roof of the military complex, motorboats at the dock and submersibles underground," she explained.

"Okay, which way are we taking?"

"I don't know how to fly a helicopter or operate a submersible but I can drive a motorboat," she said. Derek noticed that she didn't bother to ask him if he knew how to pilot a helicopter or a submersible. He guessed not many seventeen year-olds would.

She reached a door and tried to open it. She pulled out a security card and swiped it through the magnetic receiver.

"Access denied," a little voice from the wall said.

The woman cursed in Russian. Derek couldn't say for certain that it was a curse word but it didn't sound too pleasant.

She tried again to no avail. If they were unable to get through this door they would have to try their luck going back the way that they'd come in. That didn't look very appealing either.

"What do we do now?" Derek felt really dumb and helpless now.

"We'll have to wait," she said.

"For what?"

"There was a complete lockdown done on the complex. After that, all of the B.O.W.s were released—and hell with them. Some one has completely changed the security system because this card will not read," the woman explained.

"I think that I understand. Is there any other way?" Derek looked around dumbly. There were certainly no other doors.

"No, only two doors. We can either wait and hope the security system resets itself or go back the way we came. Derek looked around one more time. They were in a very small room—about an eight by ten. There were still bangs and scrapes coming from the innumerable hungry creatures outside. If the card key wouldn't let them in they were stuck—unless…

"Hold on a sec," Derek said going over to a vent to investigate. If they were able to get the vent cover itself off then there was no reason why one or both of them couldn't crawl through. He bent down and took a closer look. The vent cover wasn't even held on by nails. Derek began to pry and tug, trying to get his fingernails behind the vent cover.

The mysterious Russian lady withdrew a switchblade knife. She put the blade behind the corner of the cover and it budged a little. Together they completely removed it and peered inside the dark crawlspace. Before they went any further he decided that he'd better get a little more knowledge about his new friend than "mysterious Russian lady".

"Hey, what's your name?" Derek asked.

She looked at him strangely.

"Nastasha," she replied.

"Nastasha—?"

"Nastasha Poliniski," she added.

"My name is Derek Maynor. I'm from Australia," he said extended his hand.

At first she just looked at his hand and finally shook it.

"I could tell by the accent," she said.

"You're Russian aren't you?"

"How'd you guess?" she gave a little wink. "You go up the vent shaft if you please. If it leads somewhere productive, I am trusting you to come back and get me. I am going to continue to try the card here."

"Okay—are you sure that you won't just come along with me?" Derek asked.

"I'll be okay if that's what you're trying to insinuate. I don't need protection," she objected.

"I would feel more comfortable having someone else with me—especially someone who knows the complex. I don't have a map or anything like that. I wouldn't know where "somewhere productive" is or what it looks like," Derek added.

"Okay. I will go with you. Through this door there is a route that leads to the motorboat. That is why we must come back here if we are to escape," she explained.

"What happened here? Why did everything go to help and why hasn't Umbrella sent for anyone to come and help?" Derek asked.

"I'm just as ignorant to the details as you are. I know that the B.O.W.s are loose and that the security system has been tampered with for sure. My best assumption is that there is either a hostile takeover gone wrong or sabotage at stake here," she said. It made sense. She _did_ work here after all.

How much could he really trust her then? If she belonged to Umbrella wasn't she technically his enemy. She saved his life and was apt enough to cooperate with him. He decided that he'd have to pry for some more information.

"You said that you work for Umbrella—what part?"

"I am network technician. I install, build and maintain the network of computers and security on this complex," she said.

"Then if anyone knows how to manipulate the system it would be you, correct?" Derek asked.

"Yes—in theory. I designed the system so that those with the highest clearance easily have the most power over it. It worked out against me. If I had access to my security console I could restore the system back to default," she said.

"Well that's not nearly as important as getting out of here alive," Derek beamed.

"True. It may be necessary to get the doors we need to open," she said.

"So what do you suggest?" Derek asked.

"I told you already," she said, sounding a little bit aggravated. "We are going to crawl through this vent _together_ and we're going to see if it leads to either an exit or a route to my security console."

_She didn't say that._

"Alright then, let's go," Derek said.

"You first, I insist," she said with a gesture.

And so Derek began to crawl through the dark vent, not knowing where all of it would lead him.

* * *

Jennifer and Jerry were finally in Paris. They were able to find Trent's fabled house of goodies without much difficulty. She was loading the weapons for the mission. They were packing pretty lightly. They each were taking a Glock 17, ammunition, and some grenades. They planned on going in and out. Jennifer was also packing a camera bag to take careful note of everything that Umbrella had hiding in that lab. Jerry was taking some computer things to see if he could copy any of the files to use as proof against Umbrella.

Jennifer had never been so scared and ready at the same time. The reason she was scared was because of her own determination. She had no real motivation other than to bring justice to a corrupt company. They hadn't done anything personal to her, until sending an assassin to kill her of course. Why was she so ready to risk her life and the life of her best friend? It didn't make any sense to her and yet she felt that she somehow had to go. She felt that she was predestined somehow to expose Umbrella.

_Don't think. Just lock and load._

"You ready?" Jerry asked her.

"Yeah. Trent said that there was a helicopter on the roof. Let's find out if he was telling the truth or not," she replied.

She followed Jerry up the stairs and onto the roof. To their satisfaction there was an unmarked, black helicopter which was fully-fueled and functional. That was another thing that bothered her so much. Trent _had_ to be on the inside. He probably had more opportunity to sabotage Umbrella from his position than to give incite to little ragtag groups here and there. It kept him safe from failure, exposure and danger though. Jennifer was too confused for her own good. She figured that just proceeding with the mission and not looking back would be the best idea for her right now. She would forget about all her confusion and questions when she was in the face of her mission. She climbed into the co-pilot's seat of the helicopter, kept her eyes sharp and focused dead ahead, awaiting her arrival.

* * *

"Tell me how," Leon half-asked-half-demanded.

"The fall wasn't incredibly far. I was banged up a little bit. I landed on a platform behind a door that hadn't been opened," Ada explained.

"How do you know that it wasn't opened?" Leon asked.

"Well it was locked from the side that I was on. Just inside was a weapon's supply room. I grabbed a new weapon for myself when I heard gunshots from the platform below me. I tossed her my machine gun. There was so little time that I didn't even check to see if she made it out okay. There was another emergency elevator. I took it up and out of the lab and back onto the surface. I called for Trent and he sent for me just before the city was destroyed," Ada finished. She took a deep breath. She had wanted to tell Leon the whole truth for quite some time now.

"Then you delivered your G-virus to Umbrella, right?"

"Leon…"

"It's okay. You don't even have to answer. You wouldn't be here right now if you didn't _complete_ your mission. How much did they pay you?"

"Enough," she replied with an unintentional smile. The smile didn't set too well with Leon.

"So it's still all about the money?" Leon asked.

"This is what I do for a living, Leon. I'm a freelance agent. Sometimes I work for different contractors but Umbrella is my most frequent employer," she replied.

"So you're their hired gun; you do their dirty work," Leon said.

"You make me sound like some kind of hit man," Ada said defensively.

"You're _not_ a hit man?" Leon asked.

"No. Don't you know what a freelance agent it?" Ada was surprised.

"A gun for hire," Leon half-spat.

"That's a mercenary," Ada corrected.

"Well what _is_ a freelance agent then?" Leon was getting irritated. Ada sighed. She didn't want to upset him, especially with trivial things such as what they were discussing now.

"I investigate, infiltrate, retrieve, rescue, record, protect, deliver and collect. Most of my work has been to spy on the progress of different rogue scientists that have left Umbrella to work for competitors," Ada explained.

"I see. You're an undercover agent for hire," Leon said. It seemed like he wasn't really interested in talking about it anymore.

"What are we going to do about Xander?" Ada asked. She found it strange that _she_ was asking _him_. Usually Ada would have taken charge of a situation like that and tried to get him to do what she wanted him to do.

"I have to help my friends and we have to kill assassin man to do that. So I think my answer is pretty apparent," Leon said. She figured that would be his reaction.

"Assassin man?"

"Sorry, cheap attempt at nickname humor," Leon replied with a smile. They chuckled a little bit. It was good to laugh and joke. It had been a long time since Ada had last genuinely smiled.

_It was the last I was with him._

She looked Leon over. He had changed since Raccoon. He seemed older now. He looked like he'd buffed up a little bit. He had a shorter haircut. She had a happy little vision of marrying him, having a normal life together, with regular jobs and kids. It would never happen now. Her line of work had led her to lie to him. He'd never trust her again, much less love her and marry her. Umbrella had put them both on their hit list. They'd never be safe no matter where they went. They would be hunted to the ends of the Earth by Umbrella's henchmen.

Umbrella was guilty of more than illegal experimentation and murder. They were guilty of crushing dreams. Leon's dreams—Ada's dreams. Nearly all promise of a regular life had been shattered into a million irreparable pieces. Ada never really cared for Umbrella or its work. She didn't have a personal vendetta against them when she'd collected her check. She didn't even hold so much as a grudge when she'd tried to contact Leon. When he told her of stories of his friends, the renegade S.T.A.R.S. who were fighting tirelessly to put an end to Umbrella's vile existence, when he told her of the stories of those who had fought, bled and died for the cause, she was moved. She understood for the first time why it was so important to stop Umbrella.

_It's the right thing to do. It's the only choice we have. It's the only _chance_ we have._

She made a personal pact with herself that she would find a way to work to destroy Umbrella once and for all. Fear of death seemed to fade away. Even if she died trying it to stop Umbrella it would be no different than one of their hired guns killing her. It was time for revolution. It was time for Umbrella to pay.


End file.
